


Nimbus Albacore and the Curse of Blood

by Malkon05



Series: Nimbus Albacore [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, Eventual Relationships, F/F, F/M, LGBTQ Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 75,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6247528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malkon05/pseuds/Malkon05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nimbus Albacore has experienced tragedy few people should ever have to. As such he now lives one of the most depressing lives an almost eleven-year-old boy should have to live. But salvation may be around the corner as a mysterious envelope lands in front of him from Hogwarts. What adventures await this forlorn child? (Rating pending, currently T)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Picture Frame

"Five more minutes mum!" Nimbus yelled in retaliation to his mother's cries from downstairs. He'd always hated being woken up. It was worse than the ghastly alarm that his brother had gotten him for his seventh birthday. The shrill pitch of his mother's yell made him cringe as if a branch was being drug down a blackboard.

"If I have to come up there-"

"Alright alright for God's sake." Nimbus interrupted. If there was anything worse than being woken up by his mother, it was having her shake him out of bed. He rubbed his eyes. His nine year old self hated the idea of stirring from what had been a particularly good dream. Something along the lines of unicorns and dragons and giant mega death robots…he'd really gotten into robots lately.

He pounded his feet on the floorboards next to his bead, so that his mother could hear his defiant juvenile poundings. He trudged over to the closet and pulled out a shirt, with a small hole in the right shoulder, and a pair of slacks with ratty bottoms.

His hand ran along the wooden rails as he left his room, collecting dust as he walked down the creaky steps. He felt a sharp prick and muffled a swear word, as he was sure if his mother heard it, she'd give him a weeks worth of chores as punishment. He pulled the splinter from the rail out and sucked on his finger, the copper taste filling his mouth instantly.

"Finally."

Nimbus saw his mother rush over as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"You are so lucky it's not a school day." She ran over with a raggedy washcloth and wiped his face. "I need you to run into the market and fetch mummy some bread."

"Why can't you make Rathley do it?" Nimbus complained. He always hated having to run to grab things from the market by himself. His brother was much older and probably less likely to get mugged…not that he'd ever been mugged, but that wasn't the point.

"Rathley is busy trying to apply for college. You know that. He's been working on it all summer." His mother handed him two pounds. "I need you to get two loaves for supper."

"But mum, I haven't even gotten a bite of breakfast…"

"I know sweetie, but please. One of the professors from a college Rathley is looking at is coming over tonight and I need something proper to serve. God knows we need it…"

"Oy, you should do what your mum says."

Nimbus fumed. The annoying semi-screechy voice of his older brother came from the next room over.

"Bug off Rathbone." Nimbus called.

"Bite me Nimbooger."

Nimbus grit his teeth. There was nothing more he hated then that awful nickname. It came from a stupid incident as a child, that his mother liked to fuss over about how for three days straight his nose ran and no doctor had been able to diagnose it. However, it had stopped just as suddenly as it started, but not before several buckets of mucus had needed to be drained.

"It's not nice to call each other names." His mother said. "Honestly boys, with Rathley going off to college soon…you think you two would just get along for one day." She licked her thumb and slicked back Nimbus' hair. He hated this too. "There we are. Now, get along-"

But before she could tell Nimbus to shoo, the door burst open. It was raining outside and the drenched figure of his father walked in. He didn't say anything as he put his hat and coat on the old, stained hooks on the wall. Nimbus didn't know much about what his father did, but he did know the old man was home earlier than normal.

"Evan, what a surprise." His mother stood up and walked over. "Is everything alright?"

"Miranda…we need to talk…not here though…" He looked to Nimbus and gave a weak smile. Nimbus tried to smile back, but suddenly for no reason, his father's eyes began to water and his smile trembled.

"Okay. Nimbus, please finish the dishes for me. I'll just be a minute while I talk to your father."

"God I hate dishes…"

"I don't want to hear it!" For the first time in awhile, his mother's nostrils flared. Her eyes seemed to glow red as she glared. "I've told you to do something, and I expect you to do it." She threw her hands up. His parents then walked to their nearby bedroom down the hall and shut the door.

Nimbus groaned and pouted as he went to the kitchen. There were several dusty pictures that littered the walls in the kitchen. Though there appeared to be an earnest attempt to keep the house nice, it was apparent that things were falling behind. There were more dishes than usual in the sink, dust had begun to accumulate in the corners of the counters, and a spider dangled from a cobweb in the upper corner of the window overlooking the sink. On the opposite end of the sink and counters, a smirking git looked at him.

"Stuck with dishes again Nimbooger?"

"Shut up." Nimbus walked over. He looked at the dishes for a moment and sighed. Why couldn't his family have nice things like a dishwasher? Vicktor Canterbury's family had a dishwasher. It was a lot faster than their method of washing every dish by hand.

"You know, you could be nicer to mum. She really is trying hard." Rathley said.

"Come off it." Nimbus really wished his brother would just shut up. For once he wanted to just be alone. It was always his mother not happy with when he was getting up, his father working all the time, and his brother being a git.

"Just sayin."

And then a tiny miracle happened, Rathley stopped talking. Nimbus actually felt some peace as he took out the bottle of watered down soap…which was nearing the end of its contents. It splashed over an old looking sponge that he used. He did some of the dishes and put them on the worn out drying rack and enjoyed the few minutes of silence.

"-you mean you got fired?!"

Nimbus turned off the sink. He and Rathley looked to the nearby room.

"Miranda please."

Neither boy said a thing as they walked over to the nearby wall. The voices were loud enough that they didn't even need to go to the door.

"You know what Evan? I can't do this anymore. I've stood by you all these years as you clawed your way in that hopeless job to try and make management, and they just up and can you?! I'm going down to the office to give them a piece of my mind."

"Love, you can't just do that. They arrest people for less."

"This is your problem." Nimbus thought he heard something slam down. Maybe on a table or dresser, he wasn't sure. "You always cower when faced with adversity. This is why we can't make ends meet. I need a breadwinner!"

"Miranda, I might have a lead. Marty from the office says his cousin works for a factory that hires."

"A factory? Jesus, Evan. I can hardly show my face at parent teacher meetings as it is. We are the laughing stock of this neighborhood. We can't afford another mortgage. And god knows with the boys outgrowing everything…I can't take a job. I'm already doing part time work for the tailors down the street. You make jack shit at those types of jobs and the risk involved…"

"What else do you want me to do?" There was an exasperated gasp from his father. Nimbus couldn't quite tell, but he thought his father's voice was quivering. "I'm barely coping with everything. I'm running out of options…"

"Think they're gonna split?" Rathley said. He'd clearly heard enough and walked back over to the table.

"What do you mean?" Nimbus asked.

"You know, split up. Divorce. Not live together." Rathely took a half bruised apple from the table and took a bite.

"How can you say that?" Nimbus shook his head. "Don't they love each other?"

"Love isn't an easy thing…" Rathley sighed. "It doesn't just fix all problems."

"But that's what the Boggles always say." Nimbus sniffled. Despite how his parents were fighting, and how he couldn't stand his git of a brother, he always was taught by his favorite tv program that love always wins the day.

"You mean that show for toddlers?" Rathley said. He snorted and chuckled, taking another bite. "You're better off watching something more real. Grow up you booger."

"Stop calling me that!" Nimbus balled his fist. He could feel red boiling up inside him.

"Are the dishes done?" The boys looked over as their mother, whose eyes looked puffy and red as if she'd been crying for years ambled into the kitchen. She looked as if she would faint any minute.

"I…I did a few…" Nimbus said. He felt a little guilty.

"It's fine, I'll do the rest. Please just go to the market. Remember…two loaves."

"Two loaves?"

The entire family looked over. Their father stood in the entry way, his clothes looked disheveled.

"Is there something wrong?" Nimbus' mother turned around and leaned against the wall for support.

"For heaven's sake Miranda. You go off on me for not making enough money and you are sending Nim for a run of two loaves of bread?"

"If you recall, Evan." She stood up and walked over, putting her hands on her hips. Nimbus could feel an uneasy wave rising up, about to crash over the kitchen. "Professor Sampson from the Imperial College of London is coming for dinner tonight and I need something to put on the table."

"We have enough food without needing to give up what little pounds we have left." He scowled.

"For the love of God, Evan! Rathley needs this."

"Yeah dad, I need every chance I can get."

"Stay out of this." Nimbus' father said, turning to Rathley.

"Don't you dare talk to him that way. He's been applying and putting in the work. More than I can say for you." Nimbus' mother stepped between his father and brother.

The arguing erupted and continued on for several minutes. Nimbus just stood there. Was Rathley right? Was love just some stupid concept that was on silly children's tv programs? He didn't know what else to do. He felt red rising. He hated it here. He hated wearing clothes that weren't as nice as his friends, he hated the fights that had been ever increasing, and he disliked getting splinters from the stairwell.

"I hate it here." Nimbus said in a brief lull between the fighting. Everyone looked at him.

"What?" His mother looked exasperated.

"I hate it here!" Nimbus shouted. He felt tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He walked to the door. Maybe going to the market was the thing he needed right now after all.

"You can't mean that." His father said. All three of his family members stood near the entry way as Nimbus put on his shoes.

"I hate this house, I hate listening to you all argue, and," He tied his laces as he ranted. "I hate all of you."

"Surely, you don't mean that." His mother said. She stood there, blinking and resting her weary arm against the nearby off yellow wall.

"I do. Rathley is right. Love isn't real and it's silly. We are all just…sad all the time. There's no point. I hate you all." He stood up and grabbed his jacket.

"Hate is a strong word." His father said. "You can't mean you don't care for your own family."

"Yeah, well I don't anymore." Nimbus looked at them furiously. "Get a job, go to college, and stop yelling at each other. I can't wait until I can leave."

"That hurts us a lot…" His mother looked like she was going to cry.

"Well maybe it would hurt less if you all just dropped dead!" Nimbus shouted. He opened the door, walked out, and slammed the door behind him.

"NOOOO! STOP I DIDN'T MEAN IT." Nimbus woke up in a cold sweat. It was a little after midnight according to the mangy watch he had. He sat straight up and tried to make the nightmare stop. It did, but it didn't change anything. He could feel the numbness sweeping into him once again. On the musty, old table next to him, he picked up the only picture he had left of his family, everything else had been lost. They looked so happy. He felt tears sting his eyes and start to fall on the frame. In the dim moonlight pouring in from the nearby window, he could still see their smiles. He hugged the frame tightly and cried. He felt sadness sweep his soul.

He'd give anything to take back the last awful thing he'd said to his family on that horrible, rainy July day.

—

The next day, Nimbus walked down the hall to the tiny kitchen. Unlike his house on the other side of London where he'd grown up, this shack that barely qualified as a house was run down. He'd thought his life was hell prior to the death of his family, but his aging grandfather's living quarters weren't any better. If anything, it was as if he'd been living in a castle and woke up in a sewer. There was always a musty, grotesque smell of mold coming from everywhere, and the tinge of metal that wafted into his nostrils. With no other living relatives, Nimbus had been assigned to live with his estranged grandfather. He never even knew he had a grandfather until it had actually happened.

"That you?" A gruff, aged voice called out.

"Yes grandpa." Nimbus said. he walked into the kitchen and began to turn on the stove. With his grandfather out of commission and sickly, he'd had to care for him. This involved doing every awful thing that had been asked.

"Bout time, I was wondering when I was gonna get my God Damn eggs." He said. he sat in his rocking chair, which was propped in front of his tiny black and white television. They took up a good eighth of the already tiny place. If not for a tiny card table separating them, he'd have practically been standing next to the old man from the kitchen.

He turned on the burners and began to crack the eggs into the tiny frying pan.

There was some old time singing program that was playing on the television behind him. He heard his grandfather hum off tune to the program. It hurt his ears, but he knew better than to complain. His grandfather would just assign him more chores or strike him again. He didn't need another burning cheek or more things to do.

"Hurry up with them eggs!"

"Sorry grandpa, almost done." Nimbus finished frying the eggs and brought them over on a plate.

"Finally, ahh…how I do love my eggs. Mrs Norris used to love them too…" He started to sniffle. Every time grandpa Filch mentioned the name Mrs Norris, he started to cry profusely. He didn't know who Mrs Norris was, but he assumed it was some lady friend his grandfather used to have. Maybe a dead wife? He really knew better than to inquire, because otherwise that just meant more chores or beatings.

He brought his grandfather a handkerchief.

His grandfather snatched the handkerchief out of his hand and blew really hard into it, tossing it back on the boy. It smelled and tasted disgusting, like rotting, slimy food. Nimbus gagged and tore the thing off of him, tossing it in the nearby basket. He'd have to wash it with the rest of the dirty handkerchiefs later.

"You know grandpa…I turn eleven tomorrow…and I start school in a couple weeks. Would it be alright if I got a new shirt?"

"You know I don't have money for that…stupid boy." His grandfather said. He snarled and scarfed down his eggs. "Now, go pull out weeds before you say something else stupid."

"Yes grandpa." Nimbus bit his lip. He tried not to cry. He walked outside. There wasn't even much of a bother. Only like…three sprouts came out of the dirt ground that surrounded the metal house. A small rickety wire fence surrounded the tiny dirt plot that his grandpa owned. However, his grandpa never left the house, so it always gave Nimbus an excuse not to have to do anything else. He took a couple moments to pull the sprouts of grass out, which came out, roots and everything. How easy it was to kill a living thing. Ever since that day, Nimbus hadn't taken death as lightly as he used to. He hated the idea that people could just…kill whatever they wanted to or end something's life so easy. He used to take everything he had for granted…

Now, as he sat on the dusty porch, looking down the street at the other rickety houses, he longed to have the life he had back. At first, after moving in with his grandpa, he'd argued. He tried to call out for help, but no one would listen. Just said he was lucky that he had anyone to take him in. Soon, he'd given up fighting and just did as he was told. He'd lost the spark he had a couple years ago at age nine.

He held out his hand, bored, and began to trace lines in the dirt. However, his finger never touched the ground. He'd been able to do this little trick for as long as he could remember. He could draw on the ground, his own personal canvas. He'd draw elephants and robots and anything else he could think. Unlike other boys his age who would use sticks, or draw with their fingers, he could make the markings appear out of thin air. It was fun. His one solace in a world where everything felt dim and gray.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, a small thing floated towards him. It was white and fluttered against the gray sky. It slowly dropped and landed with not so much as a sound as it kissed the ground.

Nimbus, curious, walked up to it and picked it up. There was writing on the front. It was addressed to "The boy in the metal house in the middle of nowhere, London" from "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He looked on the back and amidst his world of black and white, a bright red waxy seal closed the envelope.

"Hog-warts?" Nimbus said out loud. He didn't know what to make of this. He'd never received a letter before. He'd also never heard of any place named Hogwarts. He already had a school…what was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been years since I've written a good fanfiction. I had a lot of ideas come to me all at once and just wrote. I hope you enjoy, I have some massive plans for this as you probably have seen from my inclusion of "Grandpa Filch." I hope y'all keep reading :)


	2. A Grudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nimbus dismisses his letter from Hogwarts as a joke initially. However, following several follow up incidents, he begins to change his mind. His past and present collide opening up a brand new future.

Nimbus didn't waste any time opening the envelope. He began to read:

"Dear Mr Albacore,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 5 September. We await your owl by no later than 10 August.

Yours sincerely,

Sigrund Corefront

Deputy Headmaster"

What the heck is a Deputy Headmaster? Nimbus scratched his head. He'd never heard of Hogwarts or witchcraft or "owl." How the heck was he supposed to reply with an owl? He looked at an attachment and started to read the list:

"The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot…"

"The heck is this rubbish?" Nimbus said to no one in particular. Why was someone wanting him to buy books of spells and stuff about magic? This had to be a prank. He looked around, but only saw an old man sitting on his porch in a rocking chair, looking out into the distance.

"Did you see anyone drop this?" He called out. The man looked over. He had bloodshot eyes and generally didn't look like he wanted to be bothered.

"Piss off, you little wanker." He said and turned away.

Guess not. He tried to read more, but found that he was required to have a wand and a cauldron. Nonsense this had to be a joke of some sort. But then why had the letter been addressed so specifically?

Nimbus pocketed the letter and walked inside.

"What took you so long?" The crotchety old voice asked.

"Nothing grandpa, more weeds than expected." Nimbus replied. He started walking to his room.

"I need you to empty my bucket."

Nimbus had to stop himself from emitting a groan. The bucket was the thing that his grandfather used to relieve himself of his bowels. It stunk up the place and it was one of his worst chores. To his surprise, as he took the bucket, there was only urine in it this time. A relief. It would be easier to clean than other times.

"What's that?"

Nimbus turned as he held the bucket.

"What's what?" He replied.

"The…letter thing in your pocket." He pointed.

"Oh." Nimbus pulled the letter out. "It's just some junk I found outside. I was going to toss it."

"Let me see that."

Rather than try the old man's patience, Nimbus set the piss bucket down and handed the crumpled paper to him.

"Blimey." The old man said after reading a few lines. "You know what this is?"

"No, do you?" Nimbus asked. He was now curious. This was the first conversation he was having with the decrepit old man that hadn't ended in a command or a beating.

"It's…it's…" He started to say. But then he stopped and glared. "It's rubbish. You were right. Toss it. Good riddance I say."

"So you don't know what it's about?" Nimbus asked.

"No. And no more questions. I have half a mind to bring out the paddle."

Nimbus knew what this meant. The last time the paddle had come out, he'd been left with a large bruise on the back of his calf. He had to crawl to his room while listening to the droning hum of his grandfather. It had taken a few days for the limping to stop.

"Alright grandpa." He turned around and picked up the bucket, going to the sink in the tiny bathroom and flushing it down the ruddy toilet that was caked with pink stuff. He rinsed it out in the grubby, musty sink and took it back. He had half a mind to take the letter, but his grandpa was clutching it and muttering amongst soft sobs about 'Mrs. Norris.'

The next few days were uneventful, Nimbus did some cleaning around the house and washed some laundry in the basin out back. He also dusted the picture of his family. It was hard for him to think about that awful night, two years ago.

After trudging to the market to buy bread, he'd walked back, only to find his house had been damaged by something and his door open. Upon coming in, his entire family was dead. His parents were on the floor of the kitchen, and his brother was face down on the stairs.

The police had been baffled as nothing appeared to be wrong with the family other than "they died of fright."

With no real friends or other relatives, Nimbus had been taken into child custody, where a shocking revelation had revealed he had a long lost grandfather on his mother's side. A few days later, they had delivered him to the front porch of what looked like hell. He wasn't far off.

He finished dusting his picture and straightened the hole ridden blanket on his bed. His pillow, stained and filthy, didn't even have a cover, but it was fine. The fact he even had somewhat of a bed astonished him. He imagined Grandpa Filch didn't move from his spot and that this bed had once been his. He often caught a whiff of what he thought was cat piss, but there were no pets nor had there ever been to the best of his knowledge.

However, three nights after the letter arrived, something odd happened. In fact, several odd things started to happen.

A couple of owls had perched outside the house. Each one hooted and had letters. Nimbus took them. They were both addressed to him. Someone was playing a cruel joke on him. This happened a couple more times, the number of owls increasing with each visit.

"Them bloody owls again?" His grandfather asked. Nimbus came in after a week of shoo'ing them off and tossing the letters they brought.

"Yeah." He said. "I'm going to go into the market and grab some food. Can I have a couple pounds?"

"Yeah…you know the place." His grandfather dismissed him. Every month, his grandfather received money in the mail. He wasn't sure who it was from, but he didn't bother asking. Asking did him no good in this house. Nimbus reached under the old coffee can in the drawer on the bottom right of the kitchen and pulled out five pounds. He didn't dare get more, as for some odd reason, in his grandfather's seldom moments of lucidness, the old man would cause a ruckus and beat him if he thought too much was being spent.

It was a good mile to the nearest market, but Nimbus was thankful for any reason to leave the house. He walked down the road, there weren't any cars or people out. It wasn't that unusual. This unmarked road wasn't well traveled. It was no wonder that no one knew about his grandfather when they were trying to decide what to do with him.

Eventually the gravel turned into pavement and the sign "Leuter's Lane." Appeared on a post. Normally most people would probably assume this was the name of his road, but it wasn't. The lane simply ended where the pavement stopped. This is why the letter not being addressed to him on Leuter's Lane was surprising. Whoever had written it, knew he lived in an unmarked road on the outskirts of London. Down the road there was an actual intersection with cars. Most cars didn't turn down to Leuter's Lane. They'd just go back and forth on either side. It was a bout ten minutes North of this intersection that the market was. It wasn't very large, though the atmosphere behind was large. Being on the outskirts of London, there wasn't a lot of business that was had, but every time Nimbus came, he could see the outskirts of the giant factories and other buildings.

It was a reminder of where he'd grown up. There were times he'd thought about running away, leaving his life behind and trying to just live on the streets, but it was no use. It'd have been several days travel and he was too malnourished to make it. He'd known this for awhile. No one good would pick up a hitchhiker, especially a ten year old.

The chime rang as he walked into Pete's Market.

"Oy, it's Nimble!" The shop owner called.

He was as old, if not older than his grandfather. His wispy gray hairs gave away his age, though the wrinkles and sunspots didn't help either. He was missing a couple of teeth.

"Hey Pete." Nimbus said. He picked up a loaf of bread, some milk, a carton of eggs, and some nasty smelling frozen vegetables his grandfather liked.

"The usual?" Pete chuckled. His weathered hands ran over each object. Nimbus swore he smelled just like sage.

"Yeah, you know grandpa."

"It's your birthday soon right?" Pete asked.

"How'd you-"

"Don't worry about it." Pete smiled. He took out a stick of pepperoni. "It's not much…but I want you to have this. A growing boy should have some proper protein."

Nimbus just stared at this. "I-I can't take this." He held out his money.

Pete rang up the register and gave him some change. "I insist. It's not often a boy turns eleven!" He grinned his odd, toothy grin and held it out.

"I-"

"Stop. Just take it. I know you don't get fed things like this."

Nimbus felt his lip tremble and took it. He felt too embarrassed to say anything in return. He muttered thanks, grabbed the bag and walked home.

He made sure to eat the entire stick on the way home. There'd be no way his grandfather would understand. It tasted like the best thing he'd ever eaten. It had been years since he'd had pepperoni. It had a savory flavor and a salty aftertaste that left him licking his lips.

As he approached the house in the middle of nowhere, something made him stop. A man stood in front of the house, just outside the gate. He was facing the place, adjusting his bowtie. He had on a large trench coat and a top hat. He also had a snowy white owl perched on his shoulder.

Nimbus didn't know what to do. They'd never had an actual visitor other than a very confused mail person who would often just not leave them mail. It was a wonder his grandpa actually got his payment envelopes each month.

"Excuse me." The man turned to him. He had long brown hair that was tied in a loose ponytail and a thick brown mustache and goatee. "Do you know where I can find a Mr Nimbus Albacore?"

This had to be the prankster. No one had ever addressed him in this way before and it was too coincidental that it matched the letters he'd been getting.

"That'd be me, and I don't think your jokes are very funny." Nimbus folded his arms.

"Ah! I sincerely apologize. I assume you believe I've…oh blast it what's the word the kids use…'pranked' you?" The man bowed, removing his top hat. He placed it back on.

"Why else would you be leaving me letters about magic and silly things of that nature?" Nimbus brushed past the man and walked through the tiny gate, shutting it…as if thinking this would keep such a tall man from just stepping over and entering.

"Oh I daresay boy, it's not silly at all. I'd hoped you'd have replied, what with the deadline approaching." He held out the familiarly embossed letter. "I'm here to formally accept you to the school. I mean it would be a great honor to have the grandson of a legacy back in Hogwarts."

"Legacy? What do you mean?" Nimbus stopped. How did this man know his grandfather?

"Your grandfather…he worked for Hogwarts some time ago."

"He did what?" Nimbus wheeled around, almost dropping the bag of groceries.

"Oh? You didn't know? I'd have guessed he'd mentioned something about it. He worked there for a long time as the caretaker." The man frowned. "Dear me, where are my manners? My boy my name is Professor Sigrund Coremund and I'm the deputy headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'd like to give you the honor of knowing that you are, indeed, a wizard Nimbus."

"A…wizard?" Nimbus set the bag down and sat on the steps. He felt confused. His grandfather had worked for a school of wizards. "Was Grandpa Filch a wizard?" He asked the man.

"No…unfortunately not. His parents were though. Shame it didn't pass on to him." Professor Coremund sighed. "Maybe that has something to do with why he didn't tell you. May we move inside? We have quite a lot to discuss. Especially with just a few days before our deadline."

"I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Nonsense!" Professor Coremund smiled and stepped over the tiny fence. "Come on let's go meet my old colleague."

Nimbus tried to block the man from entering, but instead followed in behind him. "Grandpa…I tried to stop him I…"

"You."

There was an intense silence for a couple of moments while Nimbus' grandfather turned to face the other. Then with a grin, the other man broke it.

"Argus Filch! It's been…at least twenty years."

"Twenty-four. What part of don't ever contact me or my family did I not make clear when I left?"

Nimbus was flabbergasted. "Wait so you did work for this place?"

"Of course I did, but it's just a shitty school with a lot of shitty brats. You don't want to go."

"But I'm a wizard."

That shut his grandfather up. He looked speechless.

"That's not possible."

"Oh but it is!" Professor Coremund clapped his hands. "We've been watching him for a few years now and he's demonstrated that he has what it takes. I thought you, of all people, would be proud."

"Yeah? Well I'm not!" Filch spat and turned away. "Those bloody wizards treated me like shit and I want nothing else to do with the god forsaken place. Now leave us alone. I don't want another word out of you."

"We aren't here to discuss you though, we are here to discuss Nimbus."

"There's nothing to discuss with me."

"Fine," Professor Coremund turned to Nimbus who just looked speechless. "Nimbus. We have determined you have what it takes to be accepted to a very prestigious school. Despite what your grandfather thinks, you have a choice. You can choose whether you want to come, or stay here." He looked over at the bucket and wrinkled his nose. "I can assure you it is much cleaner there than here."

"You can't go boy." Filch said, looking at his tiny tv. "I need you here. I can't care for myself."

"If it's care you want Filch, we are prepared to spare one of our elves to care for you while Nimbus is at school. You won't pay them a dime, they will be on Hogwarts payroll."

"Is that so? Might be an improvement then. Do whatever you want boy." He waved his hand.

"Okay now that this is settled, I have to ask you again Nimbus." He looked.

"Y…yes please." Nimbus said. He felt a childish grin spread across his face. Any excuse to leave this dump…even just temporarily was welcomed.

"Splendid! I'll inform Headmaster Potter of this. In the meantime, I'm guessing based on your…humble abode…" He waved a fly away. "That you need someone to help you do your shopping for school. Lucky for you I was passing through on my way to Diagon Alley."

"Shopping? I haven't got any money…" Nimbus said. He felt his brief moment of happiness fade.

"Ah yes, well Argus should have some set aside."

"You ain't touching my money." Filch said.

"Neither are you." Professor Coremund said. "Haven't made a withdrawal in years from Gringott's. Yet Hogwarts continues to provide you with retirement money for your service to our school."

"No need."

"Your grandson has a need."

"Don't care."

"Alright, I've had enough. If you want to be cared for while your grandson is at school, you WILL give me the key." His eyes narrowed.

"Is that a threat?"

"Would you prefer I give you truth serum, make you tell me where it is, and then leave and let you rot here?"

Nimbus couldn't tell what his grandfather was thinking. He felt that at any minute there was going to be a scuffle…and after what he'd experienced back at his old home, he wasn't sure if he was ready to see more death.

"In the remote, with the batteries." Filch pointed to the table.

"Glad to see reason from you." Professor Coremund walked over. He undid the battery cover on the remote and took out a greenish key. "Shall we be off? I'll have the elf arrive tomorrow at noon. I trust you can handle yourself that long?"

Filch waved his hand.

"Coming?" Professor Coremund asked Nimbus who nodded. The pair left the house.

Was he dreaming? Nimbus pinched himself and it hurt. He wasn't dreaming…he was actually a wizard and was going to go to a school with others like him. Finally, somewhere where maybe he could find peace from his past.

As they shut the door, neither person noticed the single tear rolling down the face of the former caretaker of Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading :) I'm not sure what else to say, but I'm having a blast writing this. Hopefully some of you are too. Feedback would be most welcome :)


	3. Filch's Family Fortune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In preparation for Hogwarts, Nimbus visits Diagon Alley. In particular, he's intrigued by a Joke Shop and the Wand Shop.

The two walked awhile, the disheveled Nimbus, and the very proper Professor Coremund. It would probably have looked quite the sight, except there was no one around to see them, not even the crotchety old man next door.

"How do we get to Diagon Alley?" Nimbus asked.

"Well there's a couple ways to do it, the easiest would be to walk…though it would also take the longest. You could probably fly there, but I figure you've probably never ridden a broom before-"

"You get to ride a broom?" Nimbus asked. His eyes shot wide open and his jaw dropped.

"Yes, yes indeed." Professor Coremund chuckled. He seemed like a jolly fellow. Nimbus already gravitated towards the man.

"What's Hogwarts like?" Nimbus changed topics. He had a million questions and wanted to learn all he could.

"My my, you do ask questions. That is good! I'm sure you have much to learn." Coremund said. He beamed at the young wizard. "Hogwarts is a castle that, every year, is filled with a plethora of wizards and witches of many creeds and color. You will learn magic, earn points to help your house win the house cup, and either watch or otherwise participate in Quidditch-"

"Quidditch?" Nimbus looked up.

Coremund chuckled. "Yes, a wizarding sports played on brooms. I'm sure you'll learn in due time. Where was I?" He thought a moment. "Ah yes, there's also a Quidditch cup that is played for. In any case, it is your job as a student to learn all you can, follow the rules, and look for opportunities to grow as you study in more than just books."

"Wow…" Nimbus tried to process all of this. He had no idea…why was it he'd never heard of magic? It did explain how he could create shapes in dirt without touching it. He'd just thought this was an abnormal trait or something.

"Here we are."

Nimbus hadn't even been paying attention as they'd walked, but somehow, they'd gone farther off of the road than he would have thought. In front of them, there was a stick in the ground.

"What is this?" Nimbus asked.

"That boy, is a stick." Coremund said. He chortled a bit at his own joke.

"I know it's a stick, but why are we at it? I mean…we are supposed to be going to this Ally place right?"

"If you had let me finish earlier," Coremund said. He walked over to the stick. "This is the way we shall be traveling today. It is called a Portkey."

"A what?"

"A Portkey. When you touch it, you travel to whatever destination the Portkey is set to. In this case, it is set for the Leaky Cauldron, a wizarding bar of sorts." He explained. "However, once I touch this Portkey, it will not return unless touched again. So, my boy, you should take my hand."

Nimbus didn't quite understand, but figured what the heck, at this point what's the worst that could happen? He took the Professor's hand. There was a moment, where he felt the ground shift under him, and after a raw, jerking motion feeling like something pulled him through a tiny pin hole belly first, he emerged into a dark bar of sorts. He took a deep breath and bent over, feeling sick.

"It takes time to get used to, I'll admit." Coremund said. The stick sat against the wall. There was a myriad of objects that lined the walls all labeled differently.

"All Portkeys?" Nimbus asked taking a breath.

"Yes, very good Nimbus."

"You can call me Nim." Nimbus said. It wasn't that he didn't like his name, but it was easier to say and easier to respond to.

"Alright, Nim. Let us be off? Yes?"

Nim nodded and followed the professor. There was a green mist that crawled across the floor in the bar and a number of figures, all dressed in dark robes. Some were female, others were male, and some…were indistinguishable to Nim.

"Howdy, Professor." A gruff voice called. Nim looked over to see the giant hulk of a man stand up. He wasn't as old as the professor, but had a raggid look about him.

"Ah yes, Torrus Hagrid." Coremund shook the man's hand. "Nim, I'd like you to meet the gamekeeper for Hogwarts. Just like his father…"

"Yeah just like him. Wish I'd known my mother more…" He shrugged. "Hear she was Headmistress of Beauxbatons."

"Is that so? Did they ever marry? I thought Hagrid was single until we met…"

"No they didn't."

There was an awkward pause, but then Coremund chuckled. "I'm very sorry my dear friend. You are a great wizard, there's no need to touch on sore spots."

"Indeed. So Nim huh? Interesting name."

"Mum said I reminded her of a cloud…" Nim blushed. It was the first time in awhile he'd mentioned this…he wasn't sure why he was doing it now. It was the first time he'd talked about his mother since the incident.

"I don't follow." Torrus looked at Coremund.

"His first name is Nimbus." Coremund explained.

"Oh, like the broom!"

"Not exactly." Coremund shook his head.

"What do you mean."

"Like Cumulonimbus?" There was an awkward pause.

"Oh, right." Torrus said, but Nim assumed he wasn't following. Strange fellow. "Well in any case, nice to meet you Nim."

"You as well." Nim smiled and politely shook the other's hand. He followed Coremund as they left the place while the scent of incense tickled off of their noses.

"Books, robes, magical items, a pet, and…oh yes. I'm assuming you'll be needing a wand as well."

Nim checked his list again. "Yup."

"Alright, well first we better stop at Gringott's Bank." Coremund pointed to a large, pointed white building that stood in stark contrast to the rest of the buildings, which was saying something, because the rest of the buildings were nothing like Nim was used to.

"You said something about my grandfather having a vault or something?" Nim asked.

"That's correct. Though, ultimately, I won't be able to join you into the vault, so you'll have to do some of this without me." Coremund walked into the bank motioning for Nim to follow him.

Inside was immaculate. The entire bank was covered in the nicest marble Nim had ever seen. There was a gorgeous chandelier that dangled from the ceiling, and a number of oddly shaped men who stood at counters on either side. Coremund went to the left.

"Vault err…" He looked at the key. "1228 please."

"You have the key?" The man asked.

"Right here!" Coremund offered the key to the man. He took it, and then jumped down and opened the gate. Nim gasped. "Oh right, Nim this is a Goblin. They are quite good at guarding Gringott's…though after those few break ins way back when…"

"I'll have you know there hasn't been a break in for almost 40 years now." The goblin said. He appeared prideful of the place he worked.

"Right right." Coremund said. He smiled and motioned for Nim to follow the goblin.

"This way." The goblin walked to what looked like a mine cart. Nim was nervous, but stepped in anyways. He sat on the…seat of sorts? He wasn't really sure, it was more like a bench, but he sat anyways. Coremund sat next to him.

"Next Stop. Vault 1228!" The goblin grabbed a lever and pulled. The cart lurched forward, and they were off. Things went by in a blur of motion. The car rocketed down the track. The smell turned from that of neutral office, to musty cave. Other than a string of lights, the cave was very dark. At one point, Nim swore he heard a low rumble, but, unable to find the source, ignored it. The cart shot around corners, up and down bumps, and eventually stopped in front of a circular door. Two stalagmites on either side decorated the vault and the number 1228 shone a glittering gold in the dim light.

The goblin got out of the cart once it stopped and walked up to the vault, stuck the key in and twisted There was a rumbling as the vault door shifted upwards. Nim cautiously approached as it raised and then looked inside the vault and shook his head. There, littering the floor, was the most amount of money he'd seen in his entire life. There were gold, silver, and bronze coins he didn't recognize.

"All this…is my grandpa's?" Nim asked. The old man never mentioned money before.

"Like I said. As part of his retirement plan, he was still getting paid handsomely by Hogwarts…I was shocked when I saw he'd made no withdrawals since he retired…anyways take what you need. We have other places to be."

Nim watched as a bag was tossed his way by Coremund. He picked it up and began to fill it. Once he was satisfied, he tied the bag off and got back on the cart. The vault closed and they jetted back to the entrance.

Back outside of Gringott's Coremund checked his watch.

"Oh bloody hell, I have to meet a colleague of mine in the book shop. Do you mind going to Olivander's wand shop? That'll take a little bit, I'm sure. If not, the robe shop is close by. I'll meet you there."

"Okay," Nim said. He saw the giant Olivander's sign down the road. He walked over, seeing all the robed witches and wizards scuffling about to various shops. There was a joke shop that looked particularly appealing.

Once he reached the shop he went in. There was a strong odor that smelled like polish. He sat down, as there was another young witch already at the counter being helped.

"Let's see…try this one." A decrepit old man handed the girl a wand. His hands shook with age, and Nim thought he didn't have many good years left.

The witch pointed the wand and flicked it with her wrist, a pink flame emerged and engulfed the wand. She gasped and let go, though the flames still burned.

"Pick it up, it won't harm you. That's it's way of telling you that it likes you." The man said. He gave a strained chuckle.

The witch did as instructed, the pink flame did not burn her. She held it out and flicked it. A spark emerged and danced around her face like a butterfly. It illuminated her dark green hair and rosy complexion. She smiled and the wand slowly faded.

"Essence of pixie, how…unusual. Wands don't typically contain pixie, but yours is one of a kind."

The witch smiled and paid, glancing at Nim and waving as she passed.

Nim smiled and waved back. He looked back as the door shut.

"Ah another customer. Hogwarts…I presume?"

"That's right." Nim walked to the counter, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous room.

"Eldora, could you get the tape?"

Another young witch with crimson red hair appeared. She appeared to be a little older than Nim and walked over with a roll of measuring tape. She stretched it and began to take measurements, shouting numbers at the elderly man.

"Alright, pull 2012, 45999, and 100201. Those will be good starting places Eldora."

"Right, be back soon uncle."

"A little old to be her uncle?" Nim asked. He immediately felt it rude and wished he could take it back.

"Well, I'm not really her uncle…but more like a great uncle. The name is Olivander, and you are?"

"I'm Nim, I'm sorry if-"

"Don't bother yourself, you are one of the nicer customers I've had today. Just sit tight, I promise to find you the best wand I can."

"Thanks," Nim blushed sheepishly.

Soon Eldora returned with the wands. Nim took the first one and did what the other witch did and flicked it. Nothing happened.

"Interesting…interesting." Olivander said.

Nim tried the next one and this time a sprout came out of the end, but wilted and fell.

"I think the third one is the right."

Nim took the final one and flicked it, at first it seemed like a lantern was lifting, but then it fell.

"Oh darn, I was sure I had it…maybe…Eldora, get number 14."

Eldora's eyes widened and nodded. It took her almost no time to return.

"Try this…"

Nim took the wand. He felt a jolt, but soon it was a jolt that connected him to the wand. It resonated in his hand and when he flicked it, a blue watery figure began to dance around the room. He was mesmerized.

"Never thought I'd see the day…" Olivander chucked. "One of the only wand that I've made where I used from mermaid scales."

Nim looked. Indeed there was a scaled feel to the wand.

"One of my first wands too…appropriate that in my final year as shop owner, I should see the last of my first 100 to leave." He smiled.

"Something wrong?" Nim asked.

"No just…time. What precious years I have left, I want to spend with those I love. I shall hand the shop off to Eldora at that time. She's young, but quite skilled." He gestured. The girl shrugged and folded her arms.

"I see. Well best of luck with everything." Nim waved and took off after paying him.

Professor Coremund was nowhere in sight, so he went to the robe shop nearby. There were a few other witches and wizards waiting, so he changed his mind and went to the Joke Shop instead.

The place was crowded, but full of the most intriguing trinkets that Nim had ever seen. There were toffees that made a person's tongue enlarge, a pack of small puffy creatures, and a quill that changed whatever you wrote with it. He laughed. This was the most magical place he'd been to so far.

Then he saw it.

In the corner, there was a sign that read "Dirty Art." However it was filled with murals made out of dirt. Something stirred inside him. He walked up to it and ran his fingers along the art. It was just like the things he did.

"Wouldn't it be hilarious if this was plastered all over some art collector's wall?"

The voice startled him. He turned around to see an elderly red haired man approach.

"I…I suppose." Nim said. He turned back.

"I mean there's a sorta beauty to them, but they are just dirt on paper." He held out his hand. "George Weasley."

"Nim…" Nim shook. He felt a little embarrassed. Was that all his art was? Just dirt? He felt a little silly. There was something therapeutic about his doodles in the dirt that he was now questioning.

"Interested?" George asked.

"Not really, like you said. It's just dirt." Nim didn't want to stand out. He turned back. "So…you are the owner?"

"Sure am! A new student at Hogwarts?" George asked. A devlish grin spread across his face.

"Yeah…how'd you know?" Nim asked.

"You just have that look about you. Hang out there and I'll bring you some things I think you'll love." George walked off, as he turned around, Nim noticed that a large gap where his left ear should have been. He hated being nosy, but it piqued his curiosity. He'd have to ask him about it when he returned.

Nim waited a few moments, and then realized how alone he was. The laughter from other wizards and witches faded, and he felt isolated. He was about to leave, when suddenly something coiled around his neck. It was cold and make his vision blur. He tried to breathe, but he couldn't. He struggled against whatever was binding him.

He didn't know any spells and he didn't know what to do. He soon felt the world close around him and collapsed in front of the "Dirty Art" display.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always loved visiting Diagon Alley in the books. I hope it shows here. I'd really like to visit the Wizarding World of Harry Potter some time :D As always, feel free to leave me feedback :)


	4. Sorted Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having recovered from the attack, Nimbus boards the train to Hogwarts.

"Are you daft?"

"I swear I don't know what happened, one minute I was getting an extendable ear to show the bloke, and the next he's writhing on the ground like someone is choking him."

Nim felt like his head was underwater, or that someone had placed rather effective earmuffs on him. He could just barely make out the words as he blinked.

"Merlin's beard, he's okay." A shadow peered down. Soon it came into focus, it was Professor Coremund who was knelt over his body.

"Ugh, what…what happened?" Nim sat up slowly, holding his throbbing head with one hand.

"Easy does it." Coremund helped him to his feet. "Does anyone have any chocolate?"

Weasley held out a chocolate.

"Does anyone else have a chocolate?" Coremund asked the crowd. Weasley rolled his eyes.

"I've got a frog…" A timid boy approached the front. He had a mousey face and a pair of front teeth that were a little larger than the rest, not helping. His hair was jet black and knotted. He held out his hand as a chocolate frog leapt out. Some gasped in the crowd.

Professor Coremund just reached out his hand and snagged it before it could get far. Nim had to blink to make sure he hadn't been seeing things, but as Coremund held out the now twitching semi splattered frog and offered it to him, Nim convinced himself the lightning fast reflex wasn't imagined.

"Thanks." He took and ate it, feeling instantly better.

"Is there anything in this joke shop that could present immediate danger like a rope or something?" Coremund asked Weasley as he stood up. A man in a suit walked up as he said this. "Oh, hello Mr. Yance."

The man addressed as Mr. Yance nodded. "I came as soon as I heard. I figured one from the Ministry should be present to ensure this is handled properly." He turned his attention to Nim. "I'm supposing that this is the boy. Nim is it?"

"Yes sir." Nim said. He felt red and embarrassed. Everyone was staring at him, like he was a spectacle or something. Just a few days ago, he thought he'd die in that piece of trash his grandpa called a house. Now he was being strangled in the middle of a magic shop in a street full of magicians…in front of an audience. For a moment, he wondered if this was some sort of television stunt and he was the actor.

"Good boy. Let me have a look." He walked over and examined Nim's neck. "It wasn't an object in this place."

"How do you know?" Coremund asked. A look of relief washed over the face of Mr. Weasley.

"Dark magic. It leaves…traces. I'm actually shocked you didn't detect this Coremund." Mr. Yance put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a strange electronic device. He waved it over and around some of the things in the shop.

"Well, err…" Coremund seemed at a loss for words. "Dark arts were never much of my forte…"

"Nothing in this joke shop is dark. Mostly harmless and annoying, but not truly dark…don't all of you have more important things than to gawk?" He glared at the onlookers who immediately began to disperse. "I guess that clears this up then. Nothing previously registered in this shop could have caused the incident."

"You do realize you sent away all of the suspects don't you?" Professor Coremund said.

"I doubt it." Mr. Yance patted Nim on the shoulder and turned away. "My guess is anyone stupid enough to have stayed would have reeked of Dark Magic. But I sense nothing. I will be keeping my eyes out and put my men on double time. I recommend not traveling anywhere alone for awhile. Good day, and do be careful son." He turned and smiled, waving a gloved hand at Nim.

Nim gave a wave back and the man left.

"I think it's best if you stick with me for the rest of this excursion." Coremund said. He sounded like he had been angry, but was calming down. Nim guessed there was some sort of tenseness between him and Mr. Yance…it reminded him of his family. He felt suddenly cold and began to shake at the thought of a fight between his parents. "You alright?" Coremund asked. When Nim didn't respond, he got knelt down and looked at the boy. "Nim? Nim come back." He snapped.

Nim took a breath and caught tears that were beginning to form. He felt the salty sting in the corners and took a deep breath. He looked into the warm, yellow eyes of Professor Coremund and nodded.

"Just, think about here. When I'm reminded of…things out of my control, I just have to focus on the now and not what has been or what could be. Here." Coremund reached into his pocket and gave him a small, blue, and glassy stone. "Take this stone. Feel the weight in your hands. The smoothness of it's surface. The cool, calming temperature. This is now your stone. If you think, there's something you can't deal with, past or future, use this stone to bring yourself back to the present."

Nim accepted the stone and began to feel it. Soon his thoughts were drawn to the stone. It felt ridiculous, yet somehow calming. Soon, he could feel the warmth of the joke shop, the laughter of a young witch as she played with a small, puffy animal, and then the understanding face of Professor Coremund. With another deep breath, Nim nodded. He was okay.

"Good boy. Okay I took the trouble of getting your books, sorta…a present for your birthday if you will."

Nim had almost forgot. "Oh right, my birthday is tomorrow. Thanks." He smiled.

"Anytime. So all that's left is robes, magical items, and a pet. Let's not make waste, it's starting to get late."

Before they left, the shop owner, Mr.. Weasley approached them.

"I'm truly sorry for whatever happened…I'd like to give you…something to show how sorry I am. How about this?" He held out a wand.

"A wand?" Nim asked.

"It's not just any wand, it's a Trick Wand. One of my trademark items. If you swap it with someone else's wand and they use it, it turns into a random object. It'll give you a good laugh." He smiled. It was earnest. Nim accepted it.

"Thanks." He waved. He followed Professor Coremund to finish his errands promptly after.

By the time Nim had been fitted for robes and they'd finished shopping for a cauldron and other magical items, which Nim hadn't the faintest idea what they were for, the sun was beginning to set. A warm orange glow covered Diagon Alley and the witches and wizards began to pick up their pace, trying to get all of their shopping done before nightfall.

"Saved the best for last." Coremund grinned. "Time to pick a pet. I remember the first time I got a pet…" He looked lost in thought for a moment and then shook his head. "Never mind. So the pets that Hogwarts students are allowed are an owl, cat, or toad. Technically this isn't required, but I think you'd benefit from bringing one."

They entered the shop, it was dimly lit, but pets were strewn throughout the entire store. Cats were running rampant, owl were caged up and dangling from the ceilings and floors, and toads were hopping in aquariums lining the back walls. A pungent smell wafted into Nim's nostrils and he wrinkled his nose.

"I'll just be here if you need me…I always found it best if the pet is chosen by the student directly. Gives it a more personal feel." Coremund leaned against the wall in the back of the shop and Nim nodded. He began to wander about, looking at all the animals.

The colors alone were enough to make his head spin. A calico cat darted in and out of owl cages filled with brown, white, and even a couple black owls. A yellow toad croaked loudly in the aquarium close behind. Nim started to get overwhelmed, but just rubbed the smooth stone in his pocket and took a breath. He figured it best to decide what type of animal he was drawn to and go from there.

First he looked at the toads. He picked one up and it croaked. There was a marshy sort of musk to it's breath. Nim gagged and put it down. Okay no toads.

Next he looked at the owls. He bent down and looked at one of the black owls on the floor. It screeched at him and fluffed its feathers as if being bothered. Nim had to raise his hands just to bat the flying feathers from their flurried frenzy. After taking some steps back and the owl finally done having its fit, Nim decided it really wasn't in his best interest to take on something so temperamental.

He turned to the cats. Most of them were preoccupied, some were licking themselves in places that made Nim shudder. They coughed hairballs, hissed at each other, and one even started jumping from cage to cage, causing the other animals to lose it.

Back to square one.

Nim started to feel overwhelmed. He'd made no progress. He felt lost. The immense nature of this shop was starting to be too much. He sat down and buried his hands in his face. This was all too fast.

Then he felt the warm rubbing of a face on his elbow. He looked down and saw the most beautiful bicolor cat he'd ever lay eyes on. It had a mostly white face with a black spot that covered it's right ear. It's back was black all the way to it's tail, but it had a white stomach and paws. It climbed onto Nim's lap and lay there as if it had always been.

"Hello there." He smiled.

Nim ran his hands through it's soft and fuzzy fur, feeling the vibrations as it purred at his touch. He'd never had a pet before. His parents never had much money and grandpa certainly wasn't going to get him a cat if he wouldn't even buy him a new t-shirt. It smelled like oak, just like the floors he used to walk across growing up. For the first time since his family had died, he felt like a piece of home had returned to him.

"How much for this one?" Nim hadn't actually seen the shopkeep yet, but as an elderly kind woman appeared as if from thin air, she knelt down and he knew it was her.

"Fancy this cat eh? You two make a fine pair. I don't like to sell until I know the name of the animal. Go on then, she's waiting." She gave a large toothy grin.

Nim looked at her and thought for a moment. It didn't take long, there was only one female name that came to mind, which would suit the pet that made him feel home, which he hadn't felt in almost 2 years.

"Miranda."

"A gorgeous name. Take a little time to know Miranda, you two have a lot of time to spend together and the initial bonding is important. I'll be waiting at the counter when you're ready."

Nim and Miranda sat there. He didn't want to move. He was starting to feel warm and comfortable. But from looking at the weathered watch, he knew that Coremund was probably anxious to get a move on. Eventually he stood up. Miranda followed.

After paying, they walked back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Now unfortunately, I do have to send you back home to your grandpa; I'm not allowed to remove you from your guardian's care permanently. However, I'm staying here the night at the Leaky Cauldron. You are welcome to use the guest room across the hall, I checked with Tom Jr, the owner, for the night. Would you rather spend a night before going back?" Coremund asked.

"Absolutely." Nim nodded.

"I figured as much." He handed Nim a key that said "guest" and walked off.

Nim had a great night, looking at all of his textbooks, petting Miranda as she strolled about the room, and enjoying a piece of Ludvig's Lavish Licorice that he'd picked up in the item shop. The next day he got dressed and enjoyed a quick breakfast with Coremund.

"Alright Nim, I do have to get going for the real reason I came here, so we are going to have to part ways." He pulled a ticket out of his pocket and handed it to him. "I've arranged for an escort to pick you up to board your train. You'll want to be ready by 8am sharp on the morning so that you'll have time to catch it. I do hate leaving you with…Argus…but…"

"It's okay. I appreciate all of this…" Nim smiled. The two stood up and Nim threw his arms around Coremund. "Thank you Professor."

Coremund patted the boy's head and hugged him back briefly. They used the portkey and Coremund waved as he vanished after dropping Nim off.

For the next few weeks, Nim read as much as he could. Unfortunately, he didn't understand most of the stuff in the books and didn't dare ask his grandpa for help. The elf arrived as promised and took over caring for his grandpa. Occasionally, the elf would also make Nim breakfast and wash his clothes. Nim had purchased a couple of outfits from Diagon Alley and was excited to wear them.

Soon, September 5th arrived and Nim couldn't wait to board. As instructed, a short man appeared at 8am with a car and Nim got in. They drove to King's Cross station where he was dropped off. He was going to thank the driver, but as he turned around, the man disappeared.

It was a little after 10am when Nim stepped into King's Cross. The train left at 11, and Nim didn't want to be late. He was too afraid he was going to miss it. However, his ticket didn't exactly make sense. He walked to an officer.

"Excuse me…is there a platform nine and three quarters somewhere?" Nim asked.

"What is this some sort of joke?" The officer asked. "Bug off you little runt." He continued on with whatever invisible non helpful patrolling he was doing.

Nim walked around a bit. He wished that Professor Coremund could be there to help him…He once again felt lost in a world he knew almost nothing about.

He pushed his cart full of things to platform nine and looked around. There was no one in between platforms nine and ten. He tried standing where he thought three quarters would be and blinked. When his eyes opened he was still in between the two platforms looking like an idiot.

"Out of the way."

Nim wheeled around just in time to see a boy with a cart running towards him. He just had time to get out of the way as the boy ran into the nearby brick column with the number 10 just on the other side. Nim let out a yelp, but instead of the large crash he expected, the boy simply ran through the wall like it was invisible.

He blinked. There was no way that was possible. Even for magic, that seemed too odd. Nim took a breath. He wheeled his cart around and faced the wall. He felt his heart pound and his chest tightened. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and ran forward, throwing his hand up in front of his face.

"Woah woah! Not too fast, you'll bash right into the train."

Nim felt a firm grip stop the cart and looked up. A taller, paler person looked at him. He had sandy brown hair, and wore black robes. He had a blue badge on them with a big letter "P" on it. He had a goofy grin.

"First time on the express?" The person asked.

Nim nodded. He didn't know what to say. He felt foolish.

"Not to worry. Name's Chapman." He held out his hand. Nim shook it. "I'm one of the Prefects for House Ravenclaw. Given any thought to which house you might be interested in?"

Come to think of it, Nim recalled something about a house cup that Professor Coremund had mentioned. This…Ravenclaw must be one of them.

"Umm no, I'm sorry I don't know much…" Nim rubbed his shoulder.

"Alright, alright I'll try not to spoil too much fun. Just be sure to get on the train, it's taking off soon. I think I heard a whistle." The boy waved and walked towards the front of the train.

Nim looked around at all the young witches and wizards. They were hugging their parents, some crying, some unable to contain their excitement to get away from them, and others teasing their younger siblings who seemed upset they couldn't go. It made him feel very aware that he was alone.

He took a breath and walked onto the train, remembering to secure his trunk before picking it up. Miranda, who had been lazing about on top of the trunk gave a little hiss, but followed him. He chuckled and noted a waft of something that smelled fresh, as if walking by a bakery. He wanted to follow the scent, but then he heard a train whistle as steam began to billow. The other students in the hallway started filing into the nearby cars with excited chatter. Not wanting to feel left out, he ducked into the nearest car.

"Try the next one." One of the girls in the car giggled. Nim looked. There were five girls already crowded into the car. He apologized, blushed, and shut the door looking in the next few. They were all the same, full of people. Finally, the seventh car had an open seat and he walked in.

"Hello, oh!"

Nim jumped.

"Sorry." The voice said. It was soft, yet soothing. His eyes fell onto the familiar green hair from Olivander's wand shop. "I wasn't expecting to see you again." She smiled. He sat next to her.

"Yeah, how's the wand?" He asked.

"Oh, quite marvelous. I've been having the most fun time trying out various charms, nothing too advanced and always in the privacy of my own room of course. I managed-"

"Bored."

Nim turned his attention to the nearby boy sitting directly across from him. He had a sort of snobbish air about him. His platinum blond hair and emerald green eyes stood out against his pale complexion. In fact, Nim gathered he'd probably burn if he stood in the sun for more than a minute.

"Nobody was talking to you William." The girl said. She snarled.

"It's Bill, thank you very much. And I'm sure our new guest wouldn't care for such droll conversation would he?" He shifted and held out a hand, still keeping the other one folded on his chest. "And you are?"

"Nimbus…oh but you can call me Nim." He held out his hand and touched the other. As he did, there was a jolt. It was just like the moment he'd touched his wand.

"Ouch!" Bill pulled his hand back. "Watch the static will you?"

Nimbus was sure it wasn't the same sensation as static. It was so specific and didn't hurt. It intrigued him.

"Sorry." He shook his head. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too, just don't…touch me for a bit until I know you are de-electrified." Bill put his arm back into the cross formation on his chest. He had his leg crossed over and his nice black slacks gave him a very proper look.

"H-hi Nim."

Nim had been so intrigued by the shock and his conversation with the girl, he had failed to notice the final member of the car. But as he did, he gasped.

"You." Nim said.

"Hm? Do you know Cyril?" The girl asked.

"Yes," Nim smiled. He held out his hand. The familiar mousey frames and teeth looked back at him. "Cyril huh? Thank you so much for the chocolate earlier. I feel loads better."

"G-good." The boy quickly shook the others hand, squeaked, and took it back.

"No need to be shy Cyril, no one's trying to hurt you."

"Easy for you to say Rowena," Cyril stuttered. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Sorry about that, Cyril is…a little shy." Rowena smiled. "Quite a nice fellow though. Have you read up on all of the Houses? I hear great things about Gryffindor."

"I…no I haven't read up. Can you tell me about them? I'm a little behind." Nim turned his attention to her. With Cyril unable to even meet his gaze anymore, and Bill seeming like he'd rather eat a bug then participate in conversation with the others, Nim figured he'd get the most out of this trip by conversing with Rowena for the time being. She opened her mouth, but stopped as the train lurched. They all looked out the window as it began to move. Families were waving and crying as their beloved children rode off on the Hogwarts Express. The train wheezed and whirred as it spun to life and soon, the platform started to move away. The waving continued until they could no longer see the platform. They were driving through green countryside full of colorful flowers, flying birds, and serene lakes.

"Houses right?" Rowena asked. Nim nodded. "Hogwarts is known for having four Houses. Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each house is related to a founder of the school. I don't know much else, but supposedly Ravenclaws are smart, Gryffindors brave, Hufflepuffs fair, and Slytherins…evil."

"Knock it off. Slytherins are ambitious." Bill said. He shot Rowena a glare.

Rowena giggled a bit. "With how much you praise the house, I just had to tease."

"Whatever." Bill huffed and turned his head again.

"Anyways, I know the headmaster was a Gryffindor. I also heard my mother talking her best memories were in Gryffindor. I can't wait to start taking classes." She grinned.

"Me too."

The others looked over. Cyril had spoken up for the first time since the train had left the station.

"You are?" Rowena blinked. "What are you looking forward to?"

"I've always been fascinated with stars…and stuff. I saw Astrology was a subject." Cyril turned bright pink and began to stutter again.

"Yes, it's very good to know about the celestial bodies. They help with magic abilities." Rowena said. She clasped her hands together. "Oooh, I'm so excited."

"I couldn't tell." Bill said. He let out a chuckle.

"And you aren't excited?" Rowena snapped.

"Sure, but I'm not flaunting my excitement all over the place." Bill made a motion with his hands that was flamboyant. "I already know I'm going to be Slytherin. My whole family went to Slytherin and I don't plan on breaking tradition."

"Suit yourself, I just know a number of famous dark wizards came from there." Rowena folded her arms. Nim gathered the pair of them weren't going to be best friends anytime soon.

"That's like saying sometimes crayons are black. News flash, not all crayons are black and in fact over 99% of them aren't." Bill scowled.

Before anything else could be said, the door opened. The four looked over. A young bright eyed woman with a bonnet and a maid outfit was wheeling a cart.

"Can I interest you in some wizarding treats?" She asked and batted her eyelashes.

"I don't…have any money…" Cyril said. He let out a sigh.

"I shouldn't spend anything." Rowena said. Bill didn't even bother speaking.

"What are these?" Nim got up and started eyeballing everything on the cart.

"Why, those are Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Careful with those, you could pretty much get any flavor."

"And those?" Nim pointed.

"Chocolate Cauldrons…that one seems pretty straightforward."

Nim started to get the feeling he was annoying the lady, so he reached into his pocket. "I'll take two of everything." He placed some coins on the cart. "Does that cover it."

The entire cabin was silent for a second. The lady stared in disbelief and then recomposed her complexion. "Yes of course!" She immediately unloaded a number of the items into the compartment and once satisfied. She walked down the hall to the next cabin. Nim could swear he heard her humming a happy tune.

"Going to stuff yourself full of cheap candy?" Bill asked.

"Of course, but I'll need some help." Nim grinned and started tossing candy to the others, making sure to give a chocolate frog to Cyril and thank him for his earlier.

All four of the students tore into the candy and began to laugh as the frogs hopped everywhere, Bill chomped down on a booger flavored bean, and Cyril spilled a jelly slug on his robes. For a moment it seemed like everything was fine between them. They'd forgotten all about their earlier argument. Even Bill had become less cold towards the others. Nim noticed a grin that could probably start a war for a brief moment. When he wasn't sulking, Bill was kinda fun. Cyril seemed to have gotten over his initial shyness and was laughing with the rest of them. They all talked about the treats and started talking about things they were looking forward to.

Since Nim didn't know much about Hogwarts, he found this particularly useful. He learned that the Headmaster was a bit of a celebrity, having defeated some dark lord, being a Triwizard Champion, and having a scar which was in the shape of a lightning bolt. Classes ranged from defense against the dark arts, to history of magic, to charms. He also learned that pictures moved, unlike "muggle" pictures. According to the others, muggle was the term for non-magical folk.

"Blimey, so you're saying that you've never had to deal with gnomes?" Rowena asked Nim. At some point, the conversation had shifted from Hogwarts to…just magical things in general. Nim shook his head. "Lucky."

"Yeah, all they do is wreck gardens. Quite useless otherwise." Bill chimed in. "Thinking about joining a Quidditch team?" It was as sharp a turn in the conversation as most of the discussion had been thus far. They were all too excited to stick to one topic for too long. Nim grinned, he knew this one.

"I don't know, but I'm sure it would be fun to watch."

"So you have heard of Quidditch at least?" Bill asked. He stifled a snicker.

"Yeah, it's where you…ummm score points and stuff right?" Nim asked. He felt stupid all of a sudden. The others laughed.

"That's like every sport." Rowena said. She smiled. "Quidditch is a sport that can last weeks or be over in minutes. The basic idea is to score points using a Quaffle while avoiding Bludgers. Meanwhile, one player searches for a tiny golden item called a Snitch. The player who catches the Snitch ends the game. Scoring with a Quaffle earns you 10 points, while catching the Snitch earns you 150 points."

Nim nodded. This was all too much information, but he wanted to at least show he appreciated the effort.

"It's a little more complex than that, but the team with the most points wins." Rowena finished.

"Oh thank god, I wasn't sure if you were ever going to stop talking." Bill said.

"She did a good job…" Cyril said. "No need to be mean."

"I just can't stand how much we have to sit here and listen to Miss Know-It-All." Bill looked out the window. "Oh thank god, there." He pointed.

The others looked out the window and noticed a gorgeous castle overlooking a glistening lake. It sat atop a hill and in the orange glow of the setting sun, it seemed to rise with prominence.

"We'll be there soon, we best be getting our things." Bill stood up. "It was nice to meet you Nim." He offered his hand. Nim went to shake it, but felt the same sensation as their hands neared each other.

"Right the static." Bill took his hand back as if forgetting the earlier incident. "Let's try this again in a non carpeted scenario. Cyril." He nodded to the shorter student. He was about to leave when-

"And me?" Rowena added.

"Oh yes, it was a thrill to meet the greatest mind of our time." He stuck out his tongue and left.

"What an ass." Rowena rolled her eyes. The train stopped soon and the others gathered their belongings and left. There had to be hundreds of students. Nim had to try not to get lost in the crowd of black robes. He stuck close to Cyril and Rowena as they made their way to the gates of the castle.

"All first years gather here, everyone else to my left." A booming voice called out. Nim recognized Hagrid from the Leaky Cauldron and waved.

Unlike at the Cauldron, Hagrid gave a smile and waved back. Nim wasn't sure if this was out of kindness or obligation.

Once the crowd had settled, Nim looked around. He already felt like he was lost. There were so many witches and wizards that he didn't know where to start keeping track of them all. Only Bill, who stood towards the front, and Cyril and Rowena on either side of him were recognizable.

"Alright, as tradition, we will be climbing into these boats and entering the castle from below. Be sure to follow each other and don't dawdle." Hagrid motioned for them to follow.

The students followed, each got into a boat, and were guided, as if by invisible beings, across the lake. Lanterns hung in the sky all around the lake, giving a glow in the now darkened sky. It felt like being in a dream, and Nim didn't want to wake up. He looked down and saw several fish swimming in the glow. He also swore he saw a large tail flick and immediately turned his attention back into the boat. Just what was in this lake?

The boats soon arrived underneath the castle, a set of stone steps lead up. Hagrid helped them all off the boat.

"Oy Nim, sorry about earlier, I'm not very good with social stuff. No hard feelings?" He said as Nim stepped out of the boat.

"It's fine. Thank you." He shook the man's hand. No shock. Interesting.

As he started to go up the steps, a hand clapped his shoulder. Though he felt an odd tingling sensation, there was no shock this time.

"Guess the static's gone down."

Nim turned to see Bill behind him. The pair of them dragged behind the others.

"I see." Nim nodded. He smiled.

"Listen, you seem like a cool guy, kinda slow, but cool. You aren't like those other two. I'd like to be friends." Bill said.

"I'd like that too."

"I plan to get into Slytherin. I think it'd be best if you did too." He grinned.

"You get to choose your House?" Nim asked.

"Not exactly-"

Before Bill could say anything else, all of the students stopped. At the top of the stairs, Professor Coremund stood. He quickly winked at Nim and then cleared his throat.

"Welcome 1st years. Today marks a special occasion. You will be sorted by tradition into one of four Houses: Ravenclaw, Griffindor, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff. I will lead you into the Great Hall momentarily. As we call your name, step up, sit down, and we will sort you. You will then join the House you will be living in for the next seven years. From there, you will begin your journey into schooling. I am delighted to see what the next seven years bring for you all. Follow me if you will." He gestured as he began walking towards a large set of wooden doors. They opened as he waved his hand and a great bellowing of excited chatter filled.

There were candles dangling in mid air and four long tables filled with a plethora of students. They all ranged in age, height, and color. Nim started to feel overwhelmed as the first years were lead to the front of the room.

He looked at the table at the front as they approached. There were a number of older witches and wizards, who Nim assumed to be the Professors, who sat. They were all bright eyed and seemed enthusiastic to see the fresh crop. In the center was a wizard whose hair was ghost white. He had a very thin white beard and a scar that stood out against the receding hairline. He assumed based on his limited information, that this was Headmaster Potter.

Professor Coremund took a scroll, given to him by the Headmaster, and looked out at the hall. "Alright, one at a time I am going to call your names and you will sit on this stool and be sorted by-"

"Bushy, bright youngsters that I get to sort."

There was a jovial tune that started as an old hat, that sat on the stool became animated and sang.

"For whom get to live in a House of Hogwarts,

Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Slytherin,

You all will find solace and homes to all fit in,

Don't think too much let me do all of the sifting,

For sorting is what I do best…let's BE-GIN."

There was a roar of applause as the hat stopped singing. Nim couldn't help but join in.

"Supposedly it sings a different tune every year." Rowena whispered to him. Nim nodded.

"As I was saying," Professor Coremund cleared his throat again. "One at a time I am going to call your names and you will sit on this stool and be sorted by the Sorting Hat. You have all been briefed on what to do after." He winked. "First up-"

"Excuse me Professor."

Coremund turned around as Headmaster Potter raised his hand.

"Yes Headmaster?" Coremund seemed a little irritated at being interrupted twice, but kept his composure in front of the Headmaster.

"Let's do it in reverse order this year. Nothing like changing things up in my opinion." He grinned. It was a playful grin, maybe with a hint of mischievousness. As if he'd just interrupted some great plan.

"As you wish." Coremund bowed and then looked at the scroll and muttered some gibberish that Nim didn't recognize. The scroll glowed and then dimmed.

"Zarlot, Elmire."

A very slender girl with auburn red hair walked to the front. She had a green bow that dangled slightly, making her look a bit like a disheveled christmas present. She sat down on the stool and the hat rested on her head. After a moment it exclaimed, "Slytherin!" The hat was removed and Elmire skipped over to the table. The Slytherins, clad in green, cheered loudly, while the Gryffindors, clad in red, booed. Nim figured there must be some sort of animosity between the two houses.

A few more witches and wizards were sorted before…

"Wynne, Rowena."

"Good luck." Rowena winked and walked up, her green hair shimmered in the dim light. Her rosy completion contrasted the old, tattered hat as it was lifted over her, but before it could be settled, "RAVENCLAW!" It shouted.

Rowena smiled and walked over. The table welcomed her with open arms.

A few minutes later, "North, Cyril," was called. The hat had to think a few minutes, practically draped over all of the small boy's head, and finally settled on Hufflepuff. Nim was a little disappointed, as he'd hoped to be sorted with all of his friends, but if he could even be with one of them, he'd be fine.

Every time a Gryffindor was sorted, roars and cheers from the Gryffindor table caused Nim to hold his hands over his ears.

"Kensington, William."

Nim watched as the blond boy mouthed "Bill," scowled, and sat on the stool. The hat was placed, and much like he predicted, he was placed in "Slytherin!"

All of his friends had been put in different houses. Nim felt alone. He held his stone close in his pocket and prayed he'd be with at least one of them.

Soon he was the only one left. The last person to be sorted.

"Albacore, Nimbus."

Nim walked up. His palms were sweating and he felt like he could faint at any moment. This was the most tense he'd ever felt. He nervously sat down, stumbling a bit. There were some laughs as he re positioned himself. He closed his eyes, and felt the hat rest on his head.

"Not Gryffindor…" He said silently. He would honestly take any of the other three houses.

_"Not Gryffindor eh?"_

There was a low, scratchy voice in his head. He was a little surprised and jolted.

_"No need to be alarmed. Guessing you haven't heard about me. I'm going to give you a quick assessment based on what I see. You don't seem to be the brightest bulb in the shed, nor are you particularly ambitious. I'm definitely not going to place you in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. You don't seem to want Gryffindor, but I believe it could push you to be brave, which you desperately need, and I suspect, secretly desire. I could be boring and put you in Hufflepuff, though you seem kind and just enough. It is what you want."_

"Please Hufflepuff. Just not Gryffindor." Nim begged.

 _"You remind me of someone years ago. I listened to him and placed him where he wanted. But, I should have stuck to my guns then, and I'm going to stick to them now. You are braver than you realize._ GRYFFINDOR!" It shouted out loud.

There was a loud applause and cheers bellowed through the hall. Nim felt his heart sink as the hat was removed. He looked to his friends, Rowena in Ravenclaw, Cyril in Hufflepuff, and Bill in Slytherin. He would not be joining any of them. One word surfaced to his mind as he stood up and trudged over to Gryffindor, despite his warm welcome. It was a word that he'd never say aloud, one that summed up every feeling of despair he had in this moment.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus the year at Hogwarts begins ;) Thank you to everyone reading :)


	5. Eldora's Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having been sorted in the house he didn't want, Nim makes the best of a bad situation.

Nim took his seat. People were patting him on the back and cheering for him, but he didn't feel much like celebrating. He'd just been separated from the three people he'd bonded with on the train.

"Alright, alright." The Headmaster stood up and approached the front of the table as Professor Coremund took his seat. "Now that this is out of the way…Welcome to Hogwarts officially everyone."

All four tables exploded in cheers and applause. Nim joined in. He had to try to make something of this and sulking about wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"A spirited group. I like it." He grinned. There were some chuckles. "I'm excited to see what this year brings. First off, I'm pleased to announce we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor…who I desperately hope stays more than a year. Don't want to revive the old trend."

There were some snickers in the crowd, but whatever reference he was supposed to get from this was lost. Must be something a first year wouldn't understand.

"Please join me in welcoming Professor Edward Remus 'Teddy' Lupin." He held out his arm to a wizard who was years younger than his colleagues. The man stood up and took a quick bow as people clapped and sat down. His long, wispy brown hair was combed to one side and he had an interesting scar on his chin. He didn't have the large presence that Professor Coremund had, but he seemed like he was serious enough for something that sounded as foreboding as Defense Against Dark Arts.

"Continuing on," Headmaster Potter said once the applause died off. "I'm happy to announce some dramatic changes to your schooling experience this year." He paused. No one spoke. It was the most awkward minute of silence in Nim's life. "Glad to know you all are paying attention. This year, we will see the return of the Triwizard tournament and-"

But he was interrupted as excited screams and shrieks, building up from the minute of anticipation the Headmaster had built, echoed, careened, and surrounded the entire hall. Even the professors seemed to be joining. it was as if this was the announcement of the birth of a new royal.

"Calm down." Headmaster had his wand to his throat and his voice boomed. The Great Hall once again calmed down. "The last time this tournament was held…well I was still in school. Unfortunately, there were a number of issues. I'd like to inform you that myself, in close conjunction with the Ministry of Magic and the Headmasters at the other participating schools, have made it a little more…impossible to cheat your way in to the tournament. I won't go into great lengths as more details will be released soon, but the Goblet will have an age ring, preventing anyone under 15 years of age or over 18 years of age from entering. Just in case you 4th years were thinking you were out of luck and would need to cheat to be a participant, fret not. Should things go as smoothly as we hope it will, we will continue holding the tournament every 3 years, meaning everyone, at some point in their career, provided none of you get expelled or drop out, will have the opportunity to enter."

This was, Nim assumed, what everyone wanted to hear as thunderous applause erupted. There were hoots and hollers. Headmaster reached his wand for his throat, but didn't need to say anything as everyone shut up instantly, as if trained.

"I'm getting good at this." He grinned, never having the wand touch his throat. There were some chuckles. "This year's Triwizard Tournament will be held at Durmstrang. Their Headmaster, Draco Malfoy and I are old acquaintances. We ask that all who decide to journey with us to treat our fellow competitors with respect and kindness. All students who come with will have their studies with the professors at Durmstrang. You will be required to remain at the school until the end of the school year. This also means that anyone who travels, will be ineligible to participate in the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup."

There were murmurs and some glares thrown around to the older students. Nim wasn't exactly sure what this meant…but he sure was glad he didn't have to choose between going to this Wizard Tournament or whatever it was and the Quidditch Cup. Both sounded important.

"I know this will cause some conflicts for some of you. I can't tell you what to do. I can only offer suggestions. I also can tell you that, while no points are awarded to your house for participation, there is a handsome price of 1000 galleons if you are chosen and won."

At this the glares and murmurs stopped.

"In any case, this will not start for another month. Those who are fourth years or up who would like to go, but not participate, are welcome to, but the same rules apply. In any case, let's dig in."

The Headmaster snapped his fingers and a large assortment of food appeared in front of everyone. Nim's eyes widened. He'd never seen so much food in one place before. Between his childhood and his current living situation, he was lucky to get a full meal. Now, with steaming, seared potatoes, and chicken legs as large as his arm, and mouth watering savory steaks sitting in front of him. He had no idea where to begin.

"Oh wow."

Nim was jolted from his food paralysis by a low toned voice next to him. He saw a larger girl sitting next to him. She had brown pigtails that hung down to her shoulders and freckles that were sprinkled across her cheeks. She had kind brown eyes that were currently looking over all of the different kinds of food. She reached for a chicken leg and gave Nim a grin.

"Isn't this great?" She asked. She took a bite.

"Yeah." Nim didn't want to feel left out. So he picked up a leg as well and took a bite. It was savory and succulent. He took another bite and felt tears stinging the corners of his eyes. It was probably the best chicken he'd ever had in his life.

"Gisele Windsforth." She wiped her hand on a napkin and held it out.

Nim put down the leg and shook her hand. She had a very firm grip. "Nimbus Albacore…you can call me Nim." He said. He gulped his bite and smiled.

Gisele chuckled. "You have a little…" She motioned to her front tooth and pretended to pick at it.

"Oh." Nim picked out a sizable piece of chicken. He turned bright red.

"It's okay." She chuckled. "The food is delicious. Sorry I bothered. Let's introduce ourselves later okay?"

Nim nodded. At least someone was talking to him. Everyone else was either eating or conversing with others. He wasn't feeling very social, so he went back to digging in. After the first course, which Nim had filled up on and didn't think he could fit anymore food, a second course of desserts ranging from turkish delights to victoria sponge cake to Sticky toffee pudding. The fresh, sweet scent reinvigorated Nim's appetite and he tried a little of everything. By the end he was holding his belly and groaning.

After the dinner, each table was dismissed by house. Nim followed the others. They were lead by a couple of Prefects, both seemed to know "everything" about the castle. On the way, a ghost dropped down from above and started throwing snap its which popped and scared the children.

"Knock it off Peeves." One of the prefects, a pimply faced curly haired wizard shouted. The ghost just giggled and went away. Down the hall, Nim could hear other students scream after popping noises came up.

"There are ghosts?" Nim asked. The other students started laughing. He realized how silly he sounded the moment he said it. They'd just seen one, of course there had to be.

"Yes, and normally they'd have joined us for dinner…but I'm guessing someone had a death day party." The prefect said.

After they'd calmed down the other students from laughing at Nim, they walked up a shifting set of stairs. Nim had to catch himself on the rail to keep himself from falling. A couple more laughs erupted. To these other wizards who were probably used to these things, Nim figured he was the largest idiot in the place.

At the top of the stairs, the group stopped in front of a large painting. There was a huge lady in a pink dress, holding a small glass of wine and eating a grape, directly off the vine.

"Oh, I do always love to see the new chickadees every year."

"Tiddlywinks." The other prefect, who's face was entirely too small for the rest of his body, spoke up.

"You've come to play a game with me?" The lady said hopefully.

The prefect grumbled. "Come off it. You know it's this weeks password."

"Fine. Be sure to visit sometime!" She waved and smiled as she swung open.

Behind the portrait, the castle opened up into a large tower. There was a huge common room complete with an earthy fireplace and mantle. The crest of Gryffindor, a large golden lion on a red banner, was displayed with elegance. Many books lined nearby bookshelves, which ranged from short to tall and old to new.

"First years get last choice for beds, they exist on all levels. Have at it." The curly haired prefect waved them off. "And don't forget the password. You'll regret it. And don't share it either. You'll regret that too."

The first years raced, Nim towards the end as he wasn't prepared to run. Miranda was somewhere behind him. He looked in every room on his way up, disappointed when all the beds had been taken. He finally reached the top of the tower, where the only door left was angled to the ceiling. He pushed it open and gasped. There was a whole attic. It was dusty and filled with cobwebs, but there was a charm to it. Plus, it was it's own little sanctuary. He put his things down and looked around. There was a lot of space and a bed that, while old fashioned, was larger than anything he was used to. A unique lamp stood in the corner and when he turned it on, a warm green glow illuminated the room. He turned it off and walked to the nearby window.

He pressed his face to the glass and looked out. It overlooked the lake and he could see it sparkling in the moonlight. He stood, bright eyed and surveyed all of the stars. He hoped he wouldn't wake up tomorrow and this would all have been a dream. It was too good.

Getting ready to spend his first night in the attic, Nim went down to use the restroom to brush his teeth. However, every bathroom was filled with chattering first years. Soon he was back in the living room. He sighed and sat.

"Trying to use the restroom?"

Nim looked up to Gisele who stood above him. She had her hands on her hips and was grinning.

"I know there's one outside of this tower nearby. You go down to the first floor and take a left to reach it. Technically you aren't supposed to wander the halls this late, just be careful and quiet." She winked.

"Thanks." Nim took her advice and walked out. He was careful as he wandered the hall, making sure not to freak out when the stairs shifted. Back on the first floor, he turned the corner and immediately thrust himself back, against the wall. Two students stood there. One he recognized. He peered around the corner. Actually, he recognized both students.

"-best witch in the school." The first voice said. It was Chapman, the Ravenclaw prefect from the train.

"You don't know what you're talking about." The second voice was Eldora, from the wand shop.

"You could cast dozens of spells none of those loser seventh years can. You've seen everything, you've trained for this. Eldora, you're ready."

"I'm only a sixth year though. The rest of them would crush me. Plus what if I die? In the last tournament, someone died."

Nim held his breath. His eyes widened. Someone had died? What kind of barbaric tournament was this?

"But he was careless, I'm sure. You aren't. You are the top student in our class. In fact, I'd argue you are the top student at this school." Chapman said.

"If I die, who will give students their wands?" Eldora said. There was an awkward pause before the prefect took a breath.

"You won't die. I'll cheer you on the whole way."

"That's not an answer."

"I know. Eldora…just…think about it. If you do this, you could really prove yourself as the best wand maker and witch in this school. You made your wand from scratch and it rivals the top ones out there. Plus there's the free advertising you could give your shop…"

Nim peered around the corner and watched as Chapman folded his arms. He started to walk in Nim's direction. Nim flattened himself against the wall, hiding himself in the shadow from a nearby suit of armor.

"Do you want me to die?" Nim watched as both Chapman and Eldora arrived in the hallway.

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm serious." Nim could hear her voice tremble.

"Eldora."

Nim watched as the prefect put his arm around her waist.

"I believe in you. In ten years I hope to be half the magician you are." He looked into her eyes. In the pale moonlight Nim could see him bend towards her. He turned away as he heard what he figured to be a snog. He'd seen his parents do it seldom often.

"I'm so scared." Eldora said after a moment.

"It's your choice. I won't make you. But I think you would be wasting your talent if you didn't. Just…think about it. You have my support, and I suspect the support of everyone in Ravenclaw, either way." Chapman smiled and walked off, leaving Eldora.

She seemed deep in thought. Nim took the chance to scurry around the corner, into the bathroom. He put his hands on the sink after he went in and splashed water in his face. The idea that someone could die in this tournament, just for the chance to give glory, for no other good reason. It shook him to his core. He stifled cries and had flashes of his families' bodies.

"Is someone there?"

Nim turned around. Eldora stood in the doorway. She blinked and blushed.

"I-I'm sorry I just…" Nim didn't know what to say.

"You know the boys bathroom is the next one, right?" She asked.

"Excuse me." Nim started to leave.

"Are you okay?" Eldora put her hand on his shoulder. "Oh, you are wand #14. I remember you." She smiled.

"I'm fine I just…need to brush my teeth." Nim had a hard time looking. He didn't want to say anything. He imagined for one terrible moment that her red hair was sprawled out on the ground as she lay motionless on the ground.

"Woah. No you aren't fine. I hate when people say they're fine when they aren't." She shut the door behind her. _"Colloportus."_ She said. A brief, bright light emerged from her wand and there was a clicking noise. "There we are." She turned back to him. "Talk to me."

Nim told her everything, how he'd overheard the conversation and that he didn't want anyone to die. She simply smiled.

"I see. To tell the truth, I was scared when Chapman said the same thing. I've never thought about death before. It's something you take for granted until you are put in a situation like this…" She looked in the mirror. "But we all die at some point."

"That doesn't mean you have to do it senselessly." Nim balled his fists.

"If I'm careful, and I don't do anything stupid-"

"That's a big if." Nim interrupted.

"Yes, I suppose it is." She wiped a tear from her face. "Truth be told, I'm not sure I'm good enough. But part of me, wants to prove that I'm better than a wand makers grand niece…or great grand niece." She scratched her head as if unsure of her relation to Mr Olivander.

"What do you mean?" Nim asked.

"Sometimes being handed something at birth is a blessing. Other times, it's a curse. I've always been teased…that I get good grades and do well because I'm an Olivander. But…" She set her wand down and turned to Nim. "I study really hard and I practice a lot. I didn't get anything I didn't earn." She folded her arms. "Chapman wasn't wrong. I really could prove myself in this."

"But what if-"

"You fear the future, don't you?" She asked. Nim couldn't speak. That felt like a stupid question. Didn't everyone? "That's one of our greatest weaknesses. We may pride ourselves on using magic and pretending like we are these high and mighty beings, but at the end of the day, we're human, just like muggles." She ran a hand through her hair. "We have fears, and worries, and things we can't control. You are a first year right?"

Nim nodded.

"I bet this is a scary place. There are people who have been in the wizarding world for years, they know all sorts of spells, all sorts of history, and can do things you can't imagine. Are you muggle born?"

Nim nodded again.

"I see. Nimbus, was it?" She asked. After a third nod, she stood up and picked up her wand. "It's okay to be afraid. However, you need to embrace this fear. You won't ever be able to move forward unless you take the first step. I know to you, it seems like by entering I'd be throwing my life away, but to me," she walked to the door. "It's a chance to overcome the ultimate fear. If we don't take chances to overcome fear, we are as good as dead anyways." She walked up to the lock.

_"Alohomora."_ She tapped the lock and it opened. "I don't expect you to understand that. But…please don't think ill of me if I choose to enter. I'll need all the support I can get." She looked back and smiled, wiping a tear from her eye. "Oh, and don't get caught in the halls this late at night, especially in the girls bathroom." She teased. "You don't want my boyfriend turning you in and getting detention on your first night here." She winked.

Nim blushed and nodded. He grabbed his things and went to the next bathroom, waving to Eldora as she walked off. Her words echoing in his ear.

_If we don't take chances to overcome fear, we are as good as dead anyways._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love everyone who is reading this :) Thank you for the support.


	6. The Ties That Bind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nimbus experiences his first classes in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Classes began early the next morning. After a delectable breakfast, a group of Gryffindor first years including Nim and Gisele made their way down to the basement of Hogwarts. Amidst the gossip spewing from the excitable pictures on the wall, which Nim was still getting accustomed to, there was one picture that stood out. It was of a younger lad who sat cross legged and had his eyes closed, pretending not to notice any of them.

"Who's that?" Nim asked Gisele. So far she seemed more knowledgable than most of the other first years. She was also taller than most of them. It was easy not to get lost with her around.

"No idea." Gisele scratched her head. "Let's ask later, don't want to be late to our first lesson." She pointed at the other first years who were already several paces ahead.

"Right."

They rejoined the group and entered a room at the bottom of the steps. It looked like the entrance to a dungeon. They opened the doors and a putrid smell emitted, along with a green hue.

"Welcome welcome." Professor Coremund beckoned. He sat, crosslegged, on the desk at the front. "Please all find a station and prepare your cauldrons. I don't see the point in reviewing what you already should have read. Let's just jump right in." He got off the desk and walked to a nearby closet and went inside. "Be right back." He waved.

The Gryffindors were soon joined by a cluster of Ravenclaws, including Rowena.

Nim waved to her and she waved back. She walked over with another Ravenclaw female. She looked odd and out of place in comparison, which was saying a lot for the other, eccentric Ravenclaws. She wore a laced, frilly bonnet, had black make up that caked her eyes, and wore something similar to the pastry server from the train. It was a maid outfit. She also had an…interesting choice in perfume. Something that sorta smelled like sour honeysuckle.

"Rowena, I was wondering when we'd get to hang out." Nim said. A smile spread across his face.

"I know I miss you and Cyril." She replied. "Oh, this is Matilda." She pointed to the girl who had yet to say a word.

"Hey Matilda." Nim waved. She didn't reply. "Anyways," Nim said. "This is Gisele."

"Nice to meet you." Gisele grinned and shook Rowena's hands.

"We should all work together." Rowena said.

"There's nothing I like more than seeing inter House partnerships."

All four turned around to see Professor Coremund approach. He had a giddy expression.

"For taking a leap and working with each other, I'm awarding you each 5 points for each of your houses." Coremund said. He then placed a number of ingredients on a table in front of him. "Alright, today won't be too difficult. Pull out your books and turn to page 5. I find it best to let you all do the work and I will monitor you. If you have questions, let me know." He walked to his chair and sat down, working on…something that Nim couldn't see.

"Oh Hiccoughing Potion!" Rowena clapped her hands. "I read about this. It's not difficult."

The four of them worked together, combining the ingredients. It did take awhile, but like Rowena said, it wasn't difficult. About five minutes before the end of the class, Gisele began to hiccup loudly.

"Perfect, I didn't even have to charm anyone." Coremund approached. The rest of the class watched. "Let's see if done right…" He took the concoction from their table and used it. In a matter of seconds, Gisele stopped. "Excellent!" He grinned. "As reward, you four are excused while I test the rest." He started walking over, his wand out as the other first years backed away all looking nervous.

"What do you have next?" Nim asked Rowena.

"Charms, you?"

"Defense against the Dark Arts." Nim said.

"Oh darn. Would you like to have lunch?" She asked.

"That would be great." Nim said. He beamed.

"Excellent, Gisele you are welcome too."

"Why'd you have to mention lunch…" Gisele said. Her stomach rumbled. Nim and Rowena giggled.

"And Matilda?" Nim asked, but Matilda was already leaving.

"H-hey wait up." Rowena called, waving to the Gryffindors as she ran after.

"Guessing she isn't much for friends…" Gisele shrugged. "Oh, and I have Transfiguration next…so I guess I'll see you at lunch."

The pair of them left, all while Coremund made other students hiccup and tested their potions. Nim and Gisele waved and split as they approached the main hall. Classes weren't out from first period yet, making the halls empty. Nim looked at his schedule and noted that Defense Against the Dark Arts was being held in room 3C.

He had no idea where he was going and tried going up several sets of stairs, with no luck. After climbing the fourth set of stairs, he arrived in a hallway. He had no idea if this was correct. Soon he arrived at a door with iron bars in front of it. Definitely not right.

But as soon as he turned around, all he saw was a wall. He ran up to it and tried to push his hands through, maybe this was like platform nine and three quarters. But alas, he was now stuck in a square room with the door behind the iron bars.

He was trapped.

Nim was still unable to perform even the simplest of spells. He threw his hands out in frustration and tried to shake the bars open.

"That's not going to do you any good."

Nim whipped around, trying to figure out who was talking to him. But no one was there. Just more wall.

"Blimey, you're just as blind as an infant."

Nim slowly turned back around and looked. On the other side of the bars, was a figure. It was dark, but he saw the glittering sparkle of jewels lining the figure's regal robes. He squinted, but couldn't make out what it was.

"Who are you?" He asked.

The figure walked forward, and soon, in the dim red light of the room, he saw it. It was the most lavishly dressed elf he'd seen. Of course he'd seen the one that was caring for his Grandpa, and a couple around the castle when he'd been walking back to his room the other night, but they all wore tea-towels or ratty pillow cases from what Nim had seen.

"I think the better question is, who are you?" The elf stood nearby. Unlike the knobby knee, timid creatures that he occasionally saw scurrying through the castle, this elf looked almost human. He sashayed as he walked, swiveling his hips and letting his robes sway from side to side. He finally stopped, inches from the bars on the other side and put his hand on his hip.

"Well I'm Nim-"

"No no no. I don't mean your name. Don't be silly." The elf grinned. Nim hadn't seen an elf grin before, but it was kinda creepy. It reminded him of a clown. His large teeth looking too large for the rest of his face. "I mean, who are you? Where did you come from? Your past is ultimately the better of our two questions as I am not special. But you are."

"I am?" Nim looked stunned. All he could do was lean against the back wall, feeling numb.

"You sure are." The elf chuckled. "And we need to figure out why as quickly as possible. Someone wants you dead."

The words crawled up Nim like icy daggers. He felt his hair stand on end. His eyes went wide. His hands began to shake. He could feel sweat forming on his brow.

"Surely you've seen the signs. I mean what, with that incident in the joke shop, the death of your family…"

"H-how do you know about all of that?" Nim felt violated.

"Not important." The figured swiveled around raising a hand in the air. An object appeared. It was spherical. "What is important is that we need to unravel why you."

"Who wants me dead?" Nim couldn't think of anything else to ask, everything else seemed pointless.

"That," the elf turned around holding out the blue orb. "Is the most important question of all."

Nim watched as the elf stuck his hand through the bars, holding the blue orb, it was now glowing. "What is this?"

"Not important now. But you'll need it later down the line."

Nim took the orb, unsure what else to do.

"That's all for now. Be careful Mr. Albacore. Your blood is cursed." The elf said. A grim look cast a shadow over his face. "I sense your death approaching and…well we can't have that now can we?" He grinned, the shadow vanished and he started to back off. "I hope to meet again under better circumstances."

"Wait, you haven't even told me your name." Nim said.

"All in good time."

And then after a painful, blinding white light, Nim was back outside of Room 3C. He looked around. No one was there. He saw the glowing orb his his hand, looked at it, knew it wasn't a dream, and pocketed it.

Then other people appeared as if out of nowhere.

"Watch it punk."

Nim stumbled as he was bumped into by what appeared to be a boy with pine green robes. The overwhelming scent of peppermint filled his nostrils.

"I'm sorry, I-oh." He stopped and looked into the familiar emerald eyes of… "Hey Bill." He smiled. It was nice to see a familiar face after…whatever it was he just experienced.

"Oh, it's just you Nim. Watch where you walk." Then Bill turned away with a sharp motion and walked into the class, followed by other Slytherin and Gryffindor first years.

Nim was confused. Why had Bill just walked off like that? There wasn't a hello, there wasn't a proper greeting, just a snarky comment. He walked into the class.

The other students came in, but no one showed up. At least three minutes into what should have been a lesson, Professor Lupin failed to make an appearance.

"What is this rubbish?" Bill stood up. "If he's just going to waste my time, I'm going to go practice what I learned in Charms." He took a step, and then there was an loud booming noise. The doors slammed shut and the room darkened. Other first years stood up and screamed as smoke began to fill the air. A strange creature appeared. It was dark and billowy. It had a wolflike snout and began to snarl and gnash out. All of the students began to scream and got up, running to the back of the class. They tried opening the door, using charms and spells, but nothing would open it. The creature walked right up to Bill and barked, putting its face close.

And then there was an explosion of smoke. The class screamed, but the room brightened up as the smoke cleared. Where the…billowy, wolf headed thing was, stood Professor Lupin. His long, wispy hair dangled as he walked away from Bill.

There was a clicking noise and a student pulled the door open.

"Before you leave, I would like you to know, that you are safe in my presence." Professor Lupin said. "I would therefore urge you to take your seat, so we may begin learning how you can handle yourself if faced with Dark Magic such as what you were just shown."

Nim was still shaking, but took his seat with everyone else. A nervous silence had overridden whatever mood had previously occupied the room.

"Dark Magic can happen at any time, under any circumstance. It's my job to make sure that you don't feel the pure, cold terror you felt moments ago. I have seven years, provided I'm not sacked or die, to ingrain this into your brain." He pulled out a movable dry erase board and started writing words.

_Lumos._

_Verdimillious Charm._

_Flipendo._

"While there are other spells we may cover during the span of this first year. I want you first and foremost to remember these three spells. One for getting yourself out of a tight situation, One to be able to fight back, and One to catch your opponent off guard. Mark my words," Lupin paused a moment. "You will come face to face with Dark Magic at some point in your life. I would best be sure you get everything out of this class you can." He faced them, rubbing the odd scar on his chin. "You have two choices in a do or die situation. Fight or flight. Anything else will get you killed. I'm going to get you to a place where you have time to make crucial choices and possibly save your own life, plus the lives of others. Any questions?"

No one said anything. Everyone just shook their heads. Professor Lupin's serious face turned into a cold grin.

"Good, let's begin."

For the first lesson, the students practiced _Lumos._ It wasn't difficult to master, most got it on the second or third try. Nim got it on his second. It was a glowing light. Lupin had them practice it over and over until they could do it consistently. He explained it was mostly used to light up dark places, but also could be used to repel malevolent spirits and Gytrashes.

"Next time," He said once he was satisfied. "We will have you put this to practical use. I expect you all to be on time and to expect the unexpected."

As Nim was leaving, he saw Bill packing up. He walked over.

"Is everything okay?" He asked.

"Excuse me?" Bill looked up.

"I mean, I thought we were friends." Nim wrinkled his nose. Something felt wrong. "Did I do something?"

"You're a Gryffindor. I'm a Slytherin." Bill looked around. Other Sytherins were looking at them and snickering. "Our houses don't get along. I can't talk to you anymore." He started to take off.

"Wait. Why does that matter?" Nim felt confused. He didn't care which house Bill was in. Prior to being sorted, he liked him and didn't care about any of that. Why had a sorting changed anything?

"It just does okay? Also…next time you attempt to befriend a pure-blooded wizard. Make sure to inform them that you are a mudblood. That matters too." With that, Bill huffed and turned around, walking away with the other Slytherins.

Nim pursed his lips and looked down. Apparently, he couldn't be friends with Bill anymore because of the house he was in.

And what the heck was a mudblood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh that Bill. It was very hard for me to type that word. Slurs and derogatory sayings hit too close to home for me. How will the rest of Nim's first day treat him? Thank you to everyone who is reading :D


	7. Ghosts of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Receiving a summons from the Headmaster, Nim beckons the call. Something about the summons makes him uneasy and he fears the worst.

"HE CALLED YOU A WHAT?!"

Nim covered his ears as Rowena yelled. It was lunch time and as promised, Gisele, Rowena, Nim, and Cyril, who Rowena had passed in the hall on her way to flying lessons, had all met up for lunch. Matilda had failed to join them. In between crunchy bites of peanut butter and sweet raspberry jam, they'd filled each other on how their first days were progressing. However, at the mention of his encounter with Bill, Cyril and Gisele had gasped and Rowena…well…

"I'm going to find that git and punch him so hard that I'll knock out all of his magic." She scowled and punched her fists together with menacing intent.

"What does it mean anyways?" Nim asked.

"It's the worst thing you can call someone who is 'muggle-born'." She said.

"I mean how did he even know anyways?" Gisele asked. "You haven't told anyone have you?"

"No I didn't…think it mattered…" Nim felt his heart sink. His first day at Hogwarts and he was already feeling like the odd person out. Then it hit him, he had told at least one person the night before about it…but Eldora wouldn't…would she?

"It doesn't." Rowena snapped. She stood up. "I'm going to find that sorry little prat and make him apologize."

"I don't think that's going to help." Nim took another bite of his sandwich. He just wanted to get through the rest of the day and not have something crazy or weird happen to him. But he was at a school for wizards and witches. Maybe this was just every day to day happenings.

A blond, freckled student with thick framed glasses walked over.

"I'm looking for a Nimbus Albacore?" He asked.

Great. Just what he needed. He rolled his eyes. He just wanted to have a nice lunch with his friends.

"Yes that's me." He said.

"You've been summoned by Headmaster Potter." The boy said, handing him a parchment.

"I have?" He looked astonished and took the parchment. After unrolling it, he read:

Mr. Albacore,

Please stop by my office before the end of the hour. I'd like to discus a report given to me earlier.

Thank you,

Potter

"I-I gotta go." He said and got up. He waved to the others. "Same time tomorrow?" They all nodded.

Nim was lead by the boy back into the castle to a stone gargoyle. It looked to be guarding an entry way of some sort.

"Gingersnaps." The boy said. The Gargoyle shifted and twisted, revealing a spiraling staircase that lead up behind it. The shifting stirred up dust, making Nim cough. "Alright. Good luck."

Nim passed the gargoyle and began climbing up the stone circular tower. The cold, unwelcoming feel as he ran his hand along the wall gave him a foreboding sensation. Why would the Headmaster want to see him? Had he done something worth being expelled over on the first day of class?

Eventually, he came into a chamber. It was odd and unkempt. There were papers everywhere, a bird cage on one side, and a number of pictures and tapestries draped over. An odd, putrid smell made his nose twitch. He rubbed it and noticed a cauldron bubbling some very peculiar blue liquid.

"Nimbus, my boy!"

Nim jumped. The voice behind him chuckled and Nim saw the headmaster standing behind him, holding something slimy and wriggling. He wrinkled his nose as the fresh swamp scent began to waft around the room.

"Oh right," Headmaster Potter walked past him. He tossed the wriggling…whatever they were…into the cauldron. It sparked an a small puff of smoke emitted. "That should do it, just gotta let it sit overnight. Splendid!" He turned back. "Please, please Mr. Albacore, have a seat." He smiled. Unlike the stone hallways that lead up to this room, Headmaster Potter's smile tickled the edges of his beard giving the room an air of warmth. Feeling comfortable finally, Nim took a seat.

"So…how has your first day gone so far?" He put his fingers together and sat down on the other side of his crowded desk. He looked down and before Nim could begin he muttered something. The papers floated into neat little piles. "Better. You were saying?"

"It's…alright." Nim said. He shrugged half-heartedly.

"I think," Headmaster Potter pulled out a piece of parchment. "This report contradicts that statement."

Nim felt his cheeks turn red and looked down. Whatever warm feeling he had was slowly sinking.

"I hear you were harassed by another student?" He peered from over the parchment.

Nim looked up. He wasn't in trouble? He felt his body tremble. He'd thought for sure he was going to be expelled.

"I…I don't know what you're talking about." He said, fighting back a tear.

"I hear a derogatory word was used to describe your lineage." He put the parchment down. "There is nothing wrong with being muggle born Nimbus. I just want you to know that."

Nim nodded. He felt a small gasp emit as a grin broke his trembling lips. A tear escaped, but he wiped it away. "So, I'm not expelled?" He said after regaining his posture.

"Heavens no. Why would I do that?" Headmaster Potter blinked. He broke into a laugh. "Dear me, I should probably have been more specific in that request. I'm sorry for worrying you m'boy. Now, I plan to take points away from Slytherin for that other student calling you that. I want you to tell me if anyone ever calls you that again. I don't tolerate that mentality. One of my best friends is muggle born. She was teased so much…people can be relentless. But she was the smartest, cleverest, and bravest witch in our class, including myself."

Nim nodded.

"Alright, well that's mostly what I wanted to talk about, however I noticed something about your file…are you related to a former staff member?" He asked.

"I guess." Nim said.

"Oh my, Argus Filch. I had no idea…when did he have a daughter?" Headmaster Potter seemed lost in thought for a moment. "No matter. How is your grandfather these days?"

"He's…umm…" Nim tried to think of the word.

"Dreadful?" Headmaster Potter couldn't help stifling a snicker. "No need to shy away boy, I spent seven years with him. I know how he can get."

Nim raised an eyebrow. He gathered Headmaster Potter wasn't much for subtlety. "Something like that…" He looked away.

"Are you being treated okay?" Headmaster Potter now leaned over the desk and peered into Nimbus' eyes.

"I'm fine, really. I love it here. Thank you." Nim wanted for nothing more than to get off this topic.

"I see. Well luckily for you, I have a Hogwarts house elf employed for his care. However, if you aren't being treated well, I want to help you." Headmaster Potter smiled. His face seemed earnest.

"I think that helped. I really can't thank you enough… I was so worried I was going to wake up or be expelled…this just. It's…" His lip trembled. God why couldn't he hold it together?

"This might come as a surprise," Headmaster Potter leaned back. "But I was raised by some of the nastiest muggles you'd ever meet."

Nim's eyes went wide. "You did?"

"Yeah. They were awful. They made me live in a cupboard under the stairs for the first eleven years of my life." Headmaster Potter said. A twinge of sadness passed along his face. It passed.

"I live in a small metal house." Nim said. "Before that…" He suddenly tensed up. He started thinking about the house he'd grown up in, and seeing his family motionless on the floor.

"Tell me about it Nimbus."

Nim wasn't sure what to say. It was hard enough to recall. With a trembling lip, he started blubbering. As soon as Headmaster Potter handed him a tissue, Nim managed to at least get out how he'd grown up, how his family had died, and about having to live with his grandfather.

When he was done, Headmaster Potter sat in silence. After a couple moments, he opened his mouth. "I can't imagine what you went through." He stood up and walked over to Nim, knelt down, and wrapped his arms around the boy. Nim let out an exasperated cry. It was the second time in two years that he'd been hugged by someone, the last being Professor Coremund in the Leaky Cauldron.

Nim wrapped his arms around the Headmaster in return. For the first time in almost two years, he cried, thinking about his family. For a few minutes, he leaned into the warm embrace and just let the salty, stinging tears flow.

"There, there." Headmaster Potter patted his back. After a couple minutes, he let go. "Accio." He pointed to a chair that slid over and positioned itself beneath him. "Nim I want to tell you a story. It's about one of the Greatest Wizards to ever live. He was also the Darkest. His name was Voldemort…" Nim listened as Headmaster Potter told Nim the story about an orphaned boy named Tom Riddle, whose mother had died during childbirth and father had abandoned him. This boy would grow up, never knowing true love, and instead finding solace in power. He was charming and drew in a lot of other wizards under the common goal of ridding the world of muggles, muggle born wizards, and muggle supporting wizards. Casting aside his former name and ties to muggles entirely, Riddle had declared himself Lord Voldemort and begin the dark age of wizarding. Just when it seemed as if Voldemort was unstoppable, a simple act of love, brought his downfall. A mother gave her life to protect her infant, and as a result, caused a chain reaction that stole Voldemort of his power. A curse, meant to kill her child, instead sapped Voldemort of his power and he vanished, much like he had risen.

"And thus, with his mother's love, the boy survived and later became the hero who vanquished Voldemort when he attempted to take power again, 17 years later." Headmaster Potter finished.

"I'm not sure I follow." Nim said. It was a good story and all, but he wasn't sure how it pertained to this situation.

"It's not…exactly the same. But Nimbus, I believe your family loved you very much and I think…they knew that too. Love is a strong bond. Words alone cannot break it unless it wasn't really love to begin with." Headmaster Potter rubbed the scar on his forehead. "I bear a mark given by love, by a woman I never got to know." A single tear ran down his cheek. "I'd have given anything for one day with her…and I never got that chance. Though you had hard times, and you had difficulties with your life…you had parents who fought to keep a roof over your head, and a brother to butt heads with. They live on in you, in ways you cannot fathom." He gave a weak smile and wiped the tear away. "I'm not saying to let it go. Just…don't forget."

"You're the boy." Nim suddenly understood.

"Indeed I am." He replied. "I want you to take every minute at this school, which takes the broken and the downtrodden, and learn everything it has to give you. I am a better man for having been accepted here. I can almost guarantee you will be too." He smiled. "If you ever truly need me, just call. I have a guess we will meet many times."

"Thank you." Nim said. He felt better, somehow more connected a place than he ever had before.

"You are welcome. There's, one more thing I'd like to discuss if you have some time."

Nim looked at his schedule. His next class wasn't for a bit. "Alright."

"I received, a rather alarming report from Mr. Yance at the Ministry of Magic. He says you were attacked in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes? Would you mind recalling that?"

Nim nodded and explained what had happened in the joke shop.

"Fascinating. I'm thrilled you are okay. Has…anything else happened?"

Nim hesitated. He didn't know what all to say. Part of him debated mentioning the elf, but the other part wasn't sure. He felt insane just thinking about it. Then something else crossed his mind.

"Come to think of it, yeah." Nim said. "The boy…the one who called me that name. When I shook his hand on the train, there was a shock."

"A shock you say?" Headmaster Potter asked.

"Yeah."

"Can you describe it?"

"Well," Nim pondered this a moment. "I think it was like being shocked by static, but it didn't hurt…"

"Interesting. I haven't heard of that before." The Headmaster stood up and paced. After awhile he shook his head. "Yeah, I haven't. Let me do some research on it and see if it's worth investigating. And, while you're here…" He held out a small ring and gave it to him. "Wear this. If you are being attacked in joke shops, I'm not going to take a chance. If you are in mortal danger, it will alert me so that I may aid you. Stay vigilant."

"Thanks."

"Now, unless there's something else, you are free to go." Headmaster Potter sat down.

"I'm alright. I really…appreciate this." Nim stood up. But as he turned, he was stopped.

"I won't lie, I'm a tad curious."

Nim turned around and saw the Headmaster walk over with his arm outstretched. He stopped and waited. Nim took his hand and shook it. Nothing happened.

"Ah well, was hoping to see if I could gather more information." He shrugged and walked away.

Nim felt better after his meeting with the Headmaster. There were still a few minutes left of lunch. Nim debated going back to the gang and checking in before his next class. Just as he'd made up his mind, something caught his eye as he passed by a window in the tower as he descended.

There was a figure standing at the edge of a large forest that surrounded the outer bounds of the castle. He squinted, trying to get a better look, and then it came into focus. His eyes widened and he felt his heart stop. He recognized the slicked over, dark hair and the word "Nimbooger" whispered in his ear and crept into his body, spreading like a virus. Then the boy looked up, as if looking right into Nim's soul and he knew without a doubt.

It was Rathley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I've almost posted everything I have :) Big huge cliffhanger I know :D Hopefully those who are reading are enjoying :)


	8. Pawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim is unsettled by the sudden appearance of his dead brother. Is he really alive? What happened to him? He goes searching for the answers.

Nim felt his hands go numb as he gripped the edge of the window sill. It couldn't be Rathley…he was dead. Nim distinctly recalled seeing him face down and motionless on the stairs. But there was no mistaking it. His mouth twisted into a grin, one Nim was familiar with. It was the grin that made red rise in him followed usually by an insult.

Nim tore from the window and raced down the steps. He recalled seeing a small house near where Rathley had been. He skipped the last couple of steps and flew through the corridors. He didn't even care as he bumped a Slytherin girl, knocking her books out of her hand. She yelled, but he ignored her. It didn't take him long to reach the front door.

He pushed the doors open and looked.

There.

He sped off towards the house where he'd seen Rathley.

His heart raced as he turned the corner.

He stopped.

Where he'd seen Rathley standing, there was only forest.

Nim looked around frantically. He searched for any sign of his brother. Just as he was about to go into the forest, a hand clasped his shoulder.

"Woah!"

Nim was yanked by an unnaturally strong force. He staggered back and looked up to see the grounds keeper, Hagrid.

"You know you ain't supposed to go there right? Off limits." Hagrid said.

"But I saw him…he was right there." Nim pointed.

"Who was there?" Hagrid asked.

"My brother."

By this time, there were a few onlookers now gawking at the sight.

"I didn't know your brother went here." Hagrid looked to the forest.

"He's dead. He shouldn't be…" Nim shut up. He realized just how stupid he sounded. No one could come back to life. Could they? A thought crossed his mind, there was a lot he didn't know. Was it possible for a dead person to be brought back to life?

"I'll go check it out. But stay here." Hagrid said. He waited until Nim gave an approving nod before disappearing.

"What's going on?"

Nim turned around to see Professor Coremund approaching.

"Hagrid he went…my brother I saw…" Nim was trying to calm down. The shock of seeing his brother after all this time had finally begun to set in. He felt a cold wave run through his body. He could remember seeing his brother upside down on the stairs and laying motionless, feeling the cold to the touch, lifeless sensation as he touched his arm.

"Nothing to see here." Professor Coremund's words broke Nim's funk. He watched as the murmuring witches and wizards dispersed.

"Well, I've taken a survey of the area." Hagrid emerged a few moments later, covered in leaves and branches, which he began brushing off. "Nothing. There's no footprints, there's no apparitions, and there's definitely no people in the nearby vicinity."

"Right. Well the next period is beginning soon. Do you need to see Madame Thomasson?" Coremund asked. "I don't doubt you saw something…I can see it in your eyes."

"Don't mind me." Hagrid walked off, clearly done with the conversation.

"Who is Madame Thom-son?" Nim asked.

"She's the school nurse. It's not a good sign if you are seeing something. Maybe you'd been talking about…a painful memory or something? She has a potion to help with that." He smiled and started walking to the castle, Nim following behind.

"I was talking to the Headmaster." Nim tried remembering, and then it dawned on him. "We'd been talking about my family. They died a few years ago."

"That has to be it." Professor smiled. "It's hard to dig up old, painful memories, they leave…residual traces. Maybe you just thought you saw your brother after recalling it."

"Maybe…but I just want to go to class. I don't need to see any nurses." Nim said.

"Well, if you're sure…"

"I am."

"Then don't dawdle. You are going to be late." Professor Coremund chuckled, giving Nim a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Nim nodded and took off, wondering if he really was experiencing just a powerful memory playing tricks on his mind.

The remainder of the day was uneventful, mostly because Nim's ability to focus was lacking. In between the boring discussion about stars in Astronomy with Professor Rosma, to the moderately more interesting discussion about making things levitate with Professor Simone, to the once again somewhat mundane discussion about magical history with Professor Binns, the only ghost Professor that Nim had seen thus far, he couldn't help but think there was something he was missing.

Then it hit him. Why wasn't he asking anyone? He'd been so distracted caught up with his own thoughts, that he'd missed the easiest thing he could do.

He raised his hand.

"Did you have something to add to the current discussion about Goblin Wars?" Professor Binns asked. His old, frail nature and pale blue figure peered past his round glasses. He looked weary, the bags under his eyes and wrinkles gave him an aged appearance. He'd probably been doing this job for years.

"I don't, but it's a question about magical history." Nim said, unaware the entire class had stopped to look at him. Gisele in particular looked taken aback. "Has there ever been an instance where someone has come back to life with a spell or something?"

For a moment there was silence, but that stopped as a ripple of laughter rang throughout the classroom. Everyone, with the exception of Gisele and Professor Binns, were acting as if Nim had just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

"Settle down, settle down." Professor Binns hushed everyone. "Let me guess…" He looked at Nim. "You aren't familiar with wizarding knowledge as much as the average student. Muggle born perhaps?"

Nim blushed. It wasn't any normal blush, but the kind where one would wish invisibility existed. He was pretty sure every inch of him had turned scarlet. "Y-yes professor."

"Let me start by saying, it is common knowledge that bringing the dead back to life with a spell, is impossible."

"I see." Nim shut up.

"However…" The entire class went silent and focused their every ounce of energy towards the ghost professor. "It does bring up an interesting topic. How did history lead to the discovery that it was impossible…"

The entire class groaned. Nim wanted to be interested, but as the Professor dragged on and on about every single failed instance where bringing the dead back to life only lead to fruitless futility. He started feeling like the stupidest and most bored wizard in all of humanity.

"…and thus, the closest anyone has ever come to bringing a dead person back to life, was with Aegis Animalga." Professor Binns said. "Aegis, who, during the final years of the Goblin war, attempted to aid the Goblins in the 18th Century Rebellion by using dead bodies as soldiers. Though it worked, they were utterly useless and without souls. It took something as simple as a splash of water to break down their decrepit bodies, though most anything would have. Afterwards, Animalga disappeared. It is assumed he died sometime after. Most history books don't even bother mentioning him, since nothing came from his futile efforts. Any questions?"

No one said anything for a minute. Half of the class looked like they would rather be doing anything other than sit here and listen to all of the failed attempts to bring the dead back to life.

"I do," Nimbus raised his hand. "What did the corpses that Animalga use look like?"

"That, is an interesting question-" Professor Binns began. Then a chime rang out. "Oh dear, I suppose it'll have to wait. Until next time."

The class got up. Nimbus went up to the front, followed by Gisele.

"Please Professor. I'd very much like the answer." He said.

"Alright, but next time please try to keep the class on topic. I very much doubt any of this will help you in the long run. The corpses," He said, adjusting his glasses. "Were mostly bones with bits of flesh dangling that hadn't succumbed to maggots. I would advise you not to explore this route. It isn't right, and nothing good comes from it."

"Thank you, that's…all I needed to know." Nim had his answer. There was no way that what he saw was anything remotely close to the Rathley he'd seen earlier.

"What was all that about?" Gisele asked as the pair of them left the classroom.

"I had an incident earlier." Nim said. "But it's nothing. I think my mind was playing tricks on me."

"Maybe you were hexed?" Gisele suggested. "You know there's an excellent hospital wing-"

"I appreciate that." Nim interrupted. "But I'm fine. Really, Professor Binns answered it."

"Alright, well…there's some time after dinner," Gisele smiled as they made their way to the great hall. "Earlier, when you left, I challenged Cyril to a game of Wizard's Chess just outside the Library before bed. Care to join?"

"What's Wizard's Chess?" Nim asked.

It didn't take long for him to find out. As he watched the game between Gisele and Cyril, his eyes bulged as the pieces moved. It was violent and foreign. They moved to the verbal commands of the wizard or witch controlling them and smashed any pieces that stood in their way.

Cyril was a genius. Nim figured the moment Gisele made the first move, he had already won. Though she had some spectacular saves, Gisele was mentally outmatched in every way.

"Queen to E7, checkmate." Cyril pushed his glasses up.

"No way." Gisele watched as her final bishop was shattered to bits. But much to her surprise, it was indeed checkmate. She leaned back. They'd only been playing about 20 minutes, but it was a total wipeout. At least half of Cyril's pieces were still in play.

"I do have to give you credit." He said, picking up his belongings. "That was the best game I've played in several years. You aren't a novice."

"Thanks boy wonder." Gisele rolled her eyes. "That doesn't make me feel any less humiliated."

"Care for a go Nim?" Cyril asked.

"I…" Nim thought a moment. "Sure." He grinned. He knew he would lose, but it was better than just backing down.

"You two boys have at it. I need to go review my notes from History before bed. God that was boring." She yawned and stretched, leaving the two boys. "Don't forget to be back in your towers before the end of the hour, else you might get detention for being out too late." She waved and walked off.

Nim hadn't played chess before. He'd seen others playing it, but until he'd moved his first piece, he couldn't even tell which was which. Cyril was kind to him while he was learning. There were times he made blunders, such as taking out a pawn with a bishop, only to be in the line of fire from a knight, but Cyril went easy. Nim felt like he was learning a lot.

Then there was a zapping sound, and the board went flying. Nim stood up as the pieces slammed against the wall. He was both scared and livid. He turned to see a small group of Slytherins approaching, Bill Kensington being one of them.

"That game is so stupid." The girl in front laughed. Nim had seen her at the sorting, she was still wearing the ridiculous green bow against her red hair. Elmira or something like that. He couldn't quite recall.

"Hey, we were playing." Nim scowled. He clenched his fists.

"Oh right. It's hard to forget you are just a couple of boys. Playing your silly games." The boy to her right started laughing, the others joined. His pale blue eyes and blond, almost white hair reflecting in the dim torchlight.

"Good one Rolf." Bill said. Nim noticed he wasn't laughing like the others were. In fact, he was standing a couple steps behind with his arms folded. "We should go, don't need these two riff-raff getting us detention do we?"

"But we're just boys too." The boy between the girl's right and Bill spoke up. "Why don't we get to have fun too?" He raised his wand, along with the others. This boy was much stockier than the others in comparison. He had jet black hair and freckles all over.

"Rolf, Bill, Stu." The girl said. "Let's have a little fun." She grinned and flashed a very menacing set of teeth.

"You do what you want." Bill began to walk away. "I'm leaving."

"Killjoy." She muttered. "Now where were we." She grinned. The three Slytherins approached. Bill left the corridor.

"Now, I daresay." A voice came from around the corner no sooner had Bill left. The Slytherins immediately put their wands away and backed off. A woman approached. She had on a long, black hat, that folded slightly at the tip. Her billowing black robes draped behind as her stilettos tapped one after the other. "Have some pride. I'd hate to take away points from my own house."

"Professor Cera, we…" The girl started to say.

"That's enough Miss Zarlot. You and Mr. Cavat and Mr. Flint return to your tower now."

"Yes Professor." They all said in unison and scurried off. She then turned to Cyril and Nim. Her bright, yellow eyes, and heavy dark makeup made her look like something out of a horror movie. Her lips, covered in black lipstick, furled into a snarl.

"As for you two, clean this up." She pointed to the scattered chess pieces.

"But, we didn't-" Nim started.

"Don't make me repeat myself." Professor Cera interrupted. "And don't argue with the Head of Slytherin House." Lips still pursed, she turned her whole body. Her short, black skirt and maroon, felt top, gave her a sense of authority. Her stilettos, with netting that laced up to just below her knees, looked as if they could kill any small creature with one step. "Unlike my own students, I'd relish the opportunity to take points away from you and give you both detention. However, it is neither curfew, and you haven't yet defied my instructions." She turned away. "Have you?"

"No of course not, right away Professor." Cyril squeaked. He immediately walked to the pieces and began to pick them up.

"You have ten minutes before curfew. If I come back on my patrol, and find either one of you still here, or…" She stopped, turned and gave a wicked grin. "…anywhere outside your dormitory for that matter, don't think I won't punish you." She grabbed her cape, whirled it and walked off, her stilettos clacking with each step.

Nim stood there, flabbergasted for a moment and then went to help Cyril.

"She seems nasty." Nim said.

"You can't say things like that. Don't question her either. She wasn't kidding. She has…a reputation for being stern." Cyril said. "I heard she once expelled a student for spitting on her after she gave his girlfriend a week of detention for looking at her wrong."

"She can do that?" Nim asked. "That seems wrong."

"It's just a rumor, but…" Cyril pushed his glasses up, hiding his face momentarily. "I don't think anyone's stupid enough to question it."

"I guess. But it seems wrong still." Nim shrugged. The pair of them cleaned the rest of the pieces up and hurried off, before Professor Cera could return.

For the next few days, Nim and the others avoided Slytherins like they had the measles. Every opportunity they got, they made sure to hang out with other Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors. None of them wanted anything to do with the bullies and brutes.

Nim's alternating days, though with fewer classes, were as eventful as the odd day ones. He was cautious around Professor Cera in Transfiguration. Her first lesson involved turning a small golden monkey statue into a hissing snake, which most of the Slytherins in the class found amusing, while the others were more hesitant with the snake lashing it's head. Just as Gunther Prose, another Gryffindor first year, began inching backwards, the snake having taken a too-close-for-comfort interest in him, Professor Cera waved her wand and it turned back into the familiar statue. She mentioned that by the time they were done with her class at the end of the year, she expected them all to do the same, making sure to glare at each Gryffindor, docking Prose 10 points for his cowardice in the face of danger.

"I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave." She'd smirked. The other Slytherins joined with laughter.

He also had Flying Lessons with Professor Gezbel, who apparently had once played for the Holyhead Harpies, which Nim figured, by the reactions of the students, was important. It took him at least ten tries before he was able to summon a broom. He was one of the last ones in the class, once again he felt silly.

The final class was Herbology with Professor Longbottom. He had an aptitude for this course, but it was far from his favorite. The lesson was about wormwood. They studied the plant and learned about it's properties. At one point, they were asked to taste it, but it was so bitter that some of the students became ill. The Professor just chuckled. Nim was fascinated. He also learned that Professor Longbottom was the Head of Gryffindor House.

"Mr. Albacore," Professor Longbottom said after class was over. "May I borrow a minute of your time?" Though he was old, he couldn't be any older than the Headmaster. He still had a bright smile and a cheerful personality that came out during class.

"Sure." He waved to Rowena who had Herbology with him. "Catch you later?"

"Obviously." She laughed with that silky smooth voice of hers and waved at him, skipping away.

"She's pretty."

Nim turned bright red and faced Professor Longbottom who chuckled.

"I guess." Nim shook his head. "You wanted something Professor?"

"Yes, yes. Indeed." Professor Longbottom nodded. "I mostly just wanted to follow up on the incident with Mr. Kensington in Slytherin."

"It's fine." Nim said.

"You know what they say about people who say 'it's fine' about something right?" He said, pushing up a pair of thick glasses that had slid down his nose.

"I know. Alright, it's not fine, but he hasn't bothered me since." Nim said.

"Good. If he does, please feel like you can confide in me." He smiled.

Nim liked most of his Professors, but there was something, warm, almost fatherly about Professor Longbottom. Sure, Coremund had been kind and Headmaster Potter had been supportive. But standing here, talking to Professor Longbottom, it was like talking…to his father. He had the same, kind aura as his father, a similar sweater vest, and even…a similar smile.

It hit too close to home.

"Okay." Nim had to go. He turned away and left. Something about seeing Rathley the other day had him on edge. Now seeing a Professor that reminded him of his father…maybe he did need to go to the Hospital Wing.

The rest of the week went by quicker than Nim would have hoped. He was struggling to keep up with all of the charms, spells, and discussions. He'd tried reading the books over the month he'd even known that Hogwarts was a real place, but nothing had sunk in.

He felt stupid.

"What's bothering you?" Rowena asked.

"Come again?" Nim replied. He'd been so lost in thought he'd ignored that he was the only one sitting in the Great Hall after dinner.

"You've been sitting by yourself for at least twenty minutes. Gisele stayed for a little bit, but had to work on _Wingardium Leviosa._ " Rowena sat next to him. "Dunno what Cyril is up to. In any case, I stayed. Something is wrong. I'm not stupid Nim."

"Sure you're not." Nim sighed and leaned his head forward. "I'm the only one."

"Only one what?" Rowena asked.

"I'm the stupid one."

There it was.

Nim had finally admitted it out loud.

"Nim, you aren't stupid. Where did you get a ridiculous notion like that?"

He sat up and looked at Rowena. "None of this spell stuff is sticking. The only real thing I can recall is that _Lumos_ spell…ooh so great." He waved his hands as he started feeling his cheeks flush. He was so angry at himself.

"Do you want help?" Rowena asked. "I don't want to brag, but a lot of this is review for me. I'm kind of bored to tell you the truth. It might be fun to help you in private." She smiled.

He knew deep down she meant well. But somehow, in the way she'd said it was review and that she was bored, when he struggled so much to even conjure a spell for lighting things up, it just sent him over the edge.

"No." He stood up. "I'll see you around."

"Wait, Nim. Don't. I just want to-"

"I know. Help." Nim interrupted and stormed off, carrying the Herbology book with him. He stamped with angry intent in each step and convinced himself he could do this all alone. He was going to read and practice in private until he could do it all and for once be bored like Rowena.

Halfway to his room, he heard laughter and what sounded like a faint scream. Curious, he wandered towards the noises. It didn't take him long to find a very old looking boy's bathroom at the end of the hall.

He peered his head in and took a peek.

"Serves you right for being mudblood."

Nim felt the hair stand on the back of his neck. His fist curled as he recognized the voice as Elmire Zarlot, the Slytherin girl who'd given Cyril and him the night before trouble. He took a deep breath, trying to retain some form of composure, and looked inside, pushing the door open just slightly.

Then he heard a cry for help that sent chills down his spine.

It was Cyril.

Without thinking, he threw the door open, slamming it into the nearby wall. Zarlot, and her two goons, Rolf and Stu, jumped and swung around, revealing Cyril who was beaten, bloodied, and battered on the ground.

Nim stood, unable to breathe for a moment. Though he hadn't known Cyril long, he'd grown fond of the boy, more so now that they were having regular Wizard's Chess duals. Cyril was one of the kindest, most generous, and brightest people he'd ever met. From the time where he'd given Nim chocolate in the joke shop after the incident, to teaching him the ins and outs of Wizard's Chess, and even offering him help with Astronomy homework the night before, Nim was grateful for Cyril, and now his help was needed in return.

"If any of you lay a hand on him again, I'll make sure you regret it." He growled and held out his wand…which was stupid as he still didn't really know any spells, but he felt more menacing with it out.

"Big talk from the little Lion." Rolf cackled. He took a step forward.

"N-nim…" Cyril called out. Between the swollen lip and bleeding nose, it was more of a gurgle. "Run…" He managed.

"Not a chance." Nim stood his ground.

"The little Lion wants in." Zarlot sneered. "Get him boys." She grinned. Rolf and Stu didn't waste any time. Nim flicked his wand, not really sure what to do, but knowing he had to do something. Sparks flew out and hit Rolf, but it was like being hit by a plume of smoke and he ran right through it.

Stu's right fist met Nim's head first. He saw stars, felt a thud, and slumped to the ground. Rolf's kick to his gut didn't help as sharp pain erupted. As Rolf kicked him, he let out a yelp. The strange shocking sensation went through Nim's body, just like with Bill, but it didn't seem to affect him as much as it affected Rolf. The nearly white haired Slytherin backed away wide eye'd and rubbing his ankle, to let Stu do the rest of the kicking. After the first couple of kicks, he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt. He was drug to the nearby wall and tossed against it, crying out in pain when he felt a rib crack.

For all of his tough talk and anger, he hadn't lasted more than thirty seconds. He felt weak and stupid. Nim could only groan as someone grabbed his collar and lifted him up against the wall. He managed to wipe the blood pouring down his face and got a look at Stu who was easily holding him up. For his stockier build, he was quite strong. Nim tried kicking and punching, but all he connected with was air and every movement seemed to cause him more pain.

Then the door swung open once again.

"Why am I not surprised?"

Nim and the others turned their attention to Bill who had just stepped in, his platinum blond hair arranged in a very slick fashion.

"Kensington, come to join in the fun?" Zarlot asked.

"Why? To make it more uneven? You're beating up two of the smallest and weakest kids in the school. If you want a real fight, take on that Gryffindor brute Windsforth. She's practically a giant."

Nim heard Gisele's last name and wanted to do something. He hated what Bill was calling her. But his struggling lead nowhere. He was starting to feel light headed, being held against the wall, off of his feet.

"Funny, but not the point." Zarlot folded her arms.

"You honestly want me to join up in the beating of two unarmed weaklings?" Bill asked.

"Honestly?" Zarlot pretended to think for a minute and then glared at him. "I do."

"Count me out." He turned around.

"You're just a yellow bellied git aren't you? You talk tough, but you're a coward." Zarlot sneered and turned around to face Cyril, ready to strike him with a belt she was carrying.

_"Wingardium Leviosa."_

Nim felt a weight lift and he slumped to the ground, cringing as he felt pain in his ankle from the way he landed on it. He took a deep breath, able to breathe properly again and looked up. Bill had his wand up and was pointing it at Stu. The large wizard screamed as his underwear was stretched high above him. He had his hands on his crotch, crying out in agony. It looked like the most painful wedgie of all time.

"Turning on your own are you?" Zarlot held out her wand.

 _"Incendio."_ Bill pointed his wand at Zarlot whose hair caught on fire. She screamed and began running around trying furiously to put it out. Stu landed on the ground, holding his pants and screaming. He then turned to Rolf.

"Do you really think you stand a chance?" He sneered as Rolf took out his wand. "Think about it. If Zarlot can't handle me…"

"Ngh." Rolf put his wand away and ran over to Stu to help him up. Zarlot held the side of her head and sobbed. The flame was out, but Nim figured she'd gotten a little burned in the process.

"You'll pay for this Kensington!" She scowled and ran, sobbing. Stu and Rolf followed close behind.

Nim stood up and winced as he put pressure on his left leg. It hurt, but not enough that he wouldn't be able to move.

"Take Cyril to the hospital wing. Those idiots will come back if you don't." Bill started to walk off.

"Why…I mean thank you." Nim had a hard time figuring out what to say. One moment Bill was being a prat, and the next he was their savior.

"Don't get me wrong." Bill stopped. "I didn't do this for you per say. I did it because…" He clenched his fist and turned around. He huffed. "…I called you a horrible horrible thing." He puffed his cheek. He looked torn between anger and sorrow. "I didn't really know…how bad it was. I've been informed otherwise." He shifted. "I'm sorry Nimbus."

"It's okay…here just help me with Cyril-"

"Don't get me wrong." Bill's face soured again and he turned away leaving. "This doesn't make us friends or anything. If anything, it makes us even. I wronged you, and I've righted it. I'm not an ass, but I have to keep some of my pride." He finished and shut the door, not looking back.

Nim just blinked for a few minutes, utterly at a loss for words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm now caught up with where I'm at in the story, so updates won't happen nearly as often :) Hope my readers are all doing well :D


	9. I Dream of Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the bathroom attacks plays out. Nim experiences both an odd dream, and disharmony with his friends.

"Almost there." Nim winced. He struggled to keep Cyril upright while walking towards the Hospital Wing. One arm was draped around Cyril for support, and the other was holding his side which was still shooting pain. He hobbled, trying desperately not to falter as he clung to the sides. Though some students gasped as they passed, none attempted to help. Nim wanted to issue nasty words to them through gnashed teeth, but his leg hurt too much. His energy had to be focused on getting Cyril to help.

It wasn't until halfway up a flight of stairs that someone noticed.

"Bloody hell."

A strong arm helped hoist Cyril and took the weight off of Nim's shoulder. He gasped and caught himself from falling on the nearby handrail.

"What happened?" Gisele asked. She helped Cyril with relative ease the remainder of the stairs. Nim huffed with each painful step.

"Attacked." He managed.

"By what, a troll?"

"No…other students…"

The trio had reached the top of the stairs and Gisele lead the rest of the way to the the Wing.

"We should report this. Attacking other students is grounds for expulsion." Gisele suggested.

"Just, get us to Madame Thom…son…"

"Madame Thomasson I'm guessing you mean. Already doing that." She reached a set of doors and pushed them open.

The three Slytherin students who'd attacked them exited the moment they entered. Zarlot had a bandage wrapped around her head and Stu had a strange shuffle to his steps. He alternated between wincing and glaring as they passed the Gryffindor trio.

"Oh for heaven's sake."

A squeaking, higher pitched voice sounded. Nim watched as a plump woman wearing white robes and a folded white hat appeared.

"It's only the first week and already you are all trying to meet an early demise." She sighed. With a wave of her hand, she ushered them to two free beds in the back. Gisele set Cyril down in the left one, while Nim, exhausted, settled for the remaining right.

"Stand back." The woman, who Nim presumed was Madame Thomasson, stood over Cyril and with her wand, traced his outline. "He has two broken ribs, a broken nose, and a dislocated shoulder. Cuts and bruises everywhere…what in the world happened?" She looked to Nim.

He wanted desperately to discuss the whole incident, get those Slytherins in trouble, and move on. But something told him the more he tried to resist the group, the more they might choose to instead lash out at Cyril again.

"We were, practicing charms." He lied. "It…didn't go well."

"Clearly not. You shouldn't be doing anything without supervision from a Prefect or Professor." She shook her head. "I'll keep the two of you overnight, as for you…" She turned to Gisele. "It's getting close to bedtime. I have to ask you to leave."

"Just a minute?" She asked. She was practically begging.

"One minute." Madame Thomasson replied. After giving a glare and receiving an acknowledging nod from Gisele in return, she made her way to another bed.

"Why'd you lie?" Gisele asked when the nurse was out of earshot.

"I don't want them to come back for Cyril." Nim tried to get comfortable, but his leg just hurt too much. "Not sure how it works in Hogwarts, but in muggle school, you get beat up for tattling."

"I…" Gisele wanted to argue. "No I guess you're right…I don't like it though. It'd basically be your word against theirs. Plus, ultimately…" She paused. "They'd blame it on Bill. They wouldn't be wrong, but…I mean if he really stuck up for you…that doesn't help anything. You thought of that already didn't you?"

"You'd be shocked just how many scenarios you play in your head…when you can't walk fast and have a semi-conscious boy to drag alongside you." Nim said. He turned away. He wasn't proud that he lied and the circumstances weren't ideal, but something told him he'd done the right thing.

"Do you need anything?" She asked.

"No, I think he's asleep. You should go before you get in trouble." Nim said. "Thanks though." He managed a smile amidst waves of pain.

"You got it." She stood up. "I'll check on you in the morning." She waved.

Madame Thomasson made her way around, giving Nim a potion that tasted a little like bitter tea. He wrinkled his nose.

"Trust me." She walked past, giving him an eye roll. "It's better than the stuff he's getting." She nodded to Cyril and moved on.

Nim coughed and wiped the liquid from his mouth. He wanted to protest, but all of a sudden an intense wave of sleepiness washed over him. He tried to move, but his body became numb and soon he was laying down, letting his mind empty, and began to drift off.

_The rush of wind billowed and whipped his hair. The cold tinge of the moonlight sent ice down his spine. A tree branch whipped past his arm as he glided past. He wasn't sure why he was running deeper into the forest, but, while strong pine filled his nostrils, all he knew was he had to keep moving._

_The entire forest melted and molded together, creating a misty haze in Nim's line of vision. He tried to squint while his feet moved, but nothing came into focus. He was a slave to the direction his feet took him._

_After pushing past two more hazy branches, Nim was in a clearing. The stars littered the sky, almost like a painting. A large cauldron above a fire pit was bubbling. Nim wanted to check it out, but his feet told him otherwise. He was still stuck on whatever trajectory his invisible Shepard wanted him to follow._

_On the other side of the bubbling cauldron, Nim watched as a shadowy figure danced against a tree. Okay, maybe it wasn't so much dancing as vibrating. It was hard to tell. A part of him needed to know what this was. He walked up, stretching out his fingers towards the figure. Then something large and blunt struck the back of his head. For a few seconds, bright bulbs of light flashed with a sickening split of his skull, and then the forest went dark._

Nim sat straight up in bed. He was sweating and began to shiver. He wrapped his arms around his legs, which somehow didn't hurt anymore. Maybe it was that god awful potion he choked down. In any case he hugged himself and rocked a bit. He raised a hand and put it to the back of his head. He almost cried for joy when he didn't feel what he'd feared would be a gash.

It was just a dream.

He relaxed a bit, and then noticed on his right, that there was a blue glow coming from the pocket of his robes. He reached over and felt inside. He gripped his hand around the cold spherical body the bizarre elf had given him, and pulled.

The orb was glowing pale, robin's egg blue.

However, moments after grabbing it, it began to fade and soon went back to it's normal, lackluster grey shade.

\--------

"So you two are alright then?" Rowena adjusted the bright pink bow in her hair. She had on a satin navy, blue dress today and other than the bow, looked like the epitome of a Ravenclaw, clad in blue with very light bronze trim…with a pink bow on top.

"Madame Thomasson took good care of us." Cyril said. It had been a couple of days since the incident in the bathroom. The four friends, Gisele, Cyril, Rowena, and Nim had all convened once again outside for lunch as was becoming normal routine for them.

"I bet." Rowena smiled, her bronze lipstick curling into a warm smile. "I hear she was trained by the best at St. Mungo's."

"What's that?" Nim asked.

"It's the hospital for wizards and magical abnormalities." Rowena took a sip of the pumpkin juice she'd packed. Nim had tried it for the first time at dinner the other night and decided he liked it, but not enough to have it at every meal as Rowena seemed to do.

"I see." Nim nodded.

"Healing arts haven't been taught at Hogwarts for almost a century." Rowena continued. Gisele gave Nim a quick nudge and he caught her rolling her eyes briefly. "It's rumored that Helga Hufflepuff dabbled a bit in them. Though she was more famous for her Charms…especially the ones having to do with food…"

"Helga Hufflepuff?" A this point Nim felt like a broken record. He didn't know 98% of the things that came out of the mouths of his friends, Professors, and books. It was like waking up and having to learn a whole new language.

"One of the founders of Hogwarts. There was also Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, and Rowena Ravenclaw." She smiled. "I was named after her you know. Rowena, I mean."

"Gee we wouldn't have guessed that." Gisele said. Cyril choked on his juice and Nim had to refrain from a snicker.

"Cute." Rowena's eyes narrowed at Gisele, whose eyes narrowed back. There was awkward silence for a couple moments, and then Rowena's glance softened. "Oh yes, so anyways the point I was making is that after Helga was no longer a professor, the healing arts teachings faded out of Hogwarts. They almost exclusively are taught at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic now."

"I feel like," Gisele stood up. "I missed the point of all of that." She wiped her skirt off. It was red with a checkered pattern. She had a green, long sleeved turtleneck on, which, given that the weather was starting to turn, was appropriate. Nim figured he'd need to start wearing a jacket, though he didn't own one.

"I was just saying that if someone was trained at St. Mungo's, they must be good." Rowena said.

"Really?" Gisele raised an eyebrow. "That was your point?" Nim watched as her lips forcibly stayed stern, though they wiggled as if ready to burst into laughter. "Well, I'm not disagreeing with you. I just don't see how pointing out which school the healing arts are taught correspond to how the training at St. Mungo's makes them good at it."

"I was just saying-oh nevermind." Rowena huffed. She folded her arms.

"Anyways, now that we've cleared that up." Gisele shook her head. "I have to write my parchment on Venus for Astronomy…" She sighed and gathered her things. "Would you mind giving it a look over tonight in the library?" She asked Cyril.

"Sure." He replied. He and Nim waved as she left. Rowena was still scowling.

"Something the matter?" Nim asked once Gisele was gone.

"She's just infuriating. It's like she has to be spoon fed everything." Rowena took her juice and slurped it.

"To be fair, you know a lot more than the rest of us…so it's not always easy to keep up with your train of thought." Nim said.

"I guess not." Rowena stood up. She frowned and started walking off.

"Rowena c'mon. I didn't mean-"

"I just need space." She snapped and took off.

"Well, that escalated quickly." Cyril said a moment after she'd left.

"I could just say you are a Chess snob and make you leave too." Nim shrugged. He took a bite of the sheppard's pie he'd been enjoying.

"I'd probably just laugh." Cyril said. Immediately, he started to chuckle.

"Nothing ever gets you down does it?" Nim asked.

"No, why should it?"

"Never mind." Nim said. At least one of his friends didn't take off after each misinterpreted statement. "I wonder what Rowena's point was anyways. I still don't really get it."

"I think it had something to do with the fact that Beauxbatons produces some of the best at healing arts...and most end up at St. Mungo's...but that's a guess." Cyril shrugged.

Nim figured this made about as much sense as anything and took another bite.

"You know," Cyril lay back in the grass, looking at the sky. It was gorgeous for a day in October, albeit a little cold. "I haven't thanked you for saving me the other day."

"It's nothing." Nim did the same. There were a few clouds floating above. He reached towards them. Ever since he'd learned what his name meant, he'd felt a connection to the sky.

"No I mean it." Cyril turned towards. His hair was even more disheveled than normal. "I…I thought I was going to die."

"I doubt they'd have killed you." Nim said. "They are just bullies."

"Still." Cyril lay back down. "I don't…have a lot of friends. I just, I don't know what else to say except thank you."

"If I say you're welcome, you'll drop it?" Nim asked.

"Sure."

"You're welcome, then. Plus you saved me before. Let's just…" Nim stopped. He felt the words coming to his mouth and didn't want to say them. Let's just call it even. It was almost word for word what Bill said to him. "So you're muggle born too?" Nim asked, trying to change the topic.

"Yeah. My parents are both Archaeologists." Cyril said. Nim was thankful he'd let the topic change. "It was quite the surprise when I turned out to be a wizard. They go on digs a lot though, so this actually worked out well."

"I bet that's fascinating." Nim said. He didn't know exactly what archaeologists did, but he knew it had to do with dinosaur bones.

"It can be. It can also get lonely." Cyril said. An uncomfortable moment of silence passed. "There were times where I had to stay with the old lady next door. She smelled funny and had lots of cats. It was hard to sleep there. And the whole time I'd lie awake, looking at the ceiling, I'd always hope that maybe they'd get home a day early, or would invite me to join them, or something-"

"Oy!"

The boys sat up straight. The voice that interrupted belonged to a short Hufflepuff boy wearing a plaid newsboy cap. He was holding a stack of what appeared to be newspapers.

"Can we help you?" Nim asked.

"I'm just bringing around the latest from _The Black Cat_. I do it every other week." He grinned and handed Nim and Cyril papers.

"Thanks?" Nim half asked, half said.

"Be seein' you blokes around. Ta ta." He saluted them with a single finger, grinned, and trotted off, his robes billowing behind him.

"What's this?" Nim asked to Cyril.

"Dunno." Cyril shrugged.

The two boys opened the paper, which appeared to be the school newspaper. It was titled "The Black Cat" and had a tagline saying "brought to you by the most dedicated news reporting students of Hogwarts." No sooner had they read this, both Nim and Cyril gasped.

Sitting on the front page was a picture, taken from the Hogwarts Express, of a very skilled and angled shot of Cyril, Bill, and Nim sitting in the cabin, all laughing with each other while holding out their treats, Rowena being conveniently left out.

What startled them though, wasn't the picture, or how odd it looked, but the headline that read beneath:

"Hogwarts latest mischievous trio, otherwise known as Nimbicyl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me awhile to figure out exactly how I wanted this chapter to play out. Thank you to everyone who has kudo'ed the story thus far! I wholeheartedly love comments too, so feel free to post your thoughts. I'm totally stoked to introduce _The Black Cat_ finally. You can expect they will have a much larger part to play in the coming chapters :)


	10. Before the Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim, Cyril, and Bill are called in for questioning post incident. Nim meets new people, and rekindles broken bonds.

The rest of the article talked about the train, the separating of the three boys into different houses, and the incident in the bathroom, well the incident that Nim had told, not what really happened.

The recount of the incident was vivid enough, that Nim, Cyril, and Bill were pulled from their next periods and taken to the headmaster's office.

Nim hadn't seen Bill since the incident in the bathroom. The boy had a shiner right below his right eye and looked as if sleep had evaded him for several days. He didn't even have his hair slicked over like normal.

"What were you three thinking?" Professor Cera snapped. The three students were in the Headmaster's office along with their respective Heads. Her black nail polish gleamed in the dim light as she tapped them with fury against the wooden desk. "Especially you." She sneered at Bill.

"We can't really fault them for being curious, can we?" Professor Longbottom said. "I mean, be real, you used magic at that age, I'm sure."

"Yes, but just like these boys, no good came of it." Cera said and gave Longbottom a glare.

"Perhaps," Longbottom leaned on the wall opposite Cera. "I don't think we can really blame them for being curious. They are first years after all."

"Then we educate them. I suggest detention for a week. That ought to teach them something." She said.

"A week? For screwing up a charms spell?" A third professor chimed in. Nim recognized her as Professor Rosma from Astronomy. She had a pair of glasses with a crescent moon on one side and small stars on the other, that covered her dark brown eyes. Her skin was olive and her hair was white and wispy, pulled back in a loose bun. She had robes that were different from the others, brilliant shades of orange and pink with bangles dangling everywhere. Nim had only ever seen one dress like it…worn by women from India. A sara or something like that… "Preposterous. You only even cared about this because that student run newspaper made a fuss."

"Madame Thomasson confirmed the injuries to Mr. North were quite severe." Cera's eyes narrowed. Both women looked ready to lunge at each other.

"Please, please. Can we have our little disputes not in front of first years?" Headmaster Potter, sitting at his desk raised his hands. The Professors turned away from each other. "Better…I suppose." He shook his head and closed his eyes.

Nim had to stop the twist of a grin on his face. He could tell that this was not the first time Headmaster Potter had to deal with this. It showed in his expressions. It was borderline comical.

"While I can appreciate where Professor Cera is coming from." Headmaster Potter turned his head towards her. "I also believe we can't completely disregard the students' curiosity to try basic spells. We've all been first years, yeah?" He looked to Professor Longbottom who nodded and winked. "How about, I assign a one night detention to go over our rules with the boys, and we call it a day? I'm sure Professor Coremund as the objective Head can see to it."

"But Headmaster-" Professor Cera started.

"Do you wish to attempt to challenge my ruling?" Headmaster Potter asked. There was a stern look to his eyes.

"No." The witch balled her fist. "Just, tell Professor Coremund to let me know when the detention has been served." She turned around and stormed out.

"It's settled then." Headmaster Potter said. "I will be forwarding this to Professor Coremund. Now…is that all?"

No one said anything.

"Great. I have to get preparations together for the Triwizard Tournament. I bid you all adieu."

Nim, Cyril, and Bill stood up and left. Professors Rosma and Longbottom stayed behind.

"Are you alright?" Nim asked Bill once they'd passed the gargoyle. "I mean your eye and…well everything?"

"Nothing I can't handle." Bill said. He didn't face the others.

"Come on." Nim said. "Something happened. You might have your pride and everything, but-"

"I said I can handle it." Bill stopped. He turned around, fuming at Nim. "I can't be seen hanging around with you. I did enough damage with Zarlot. The more we associate, the less credibility I have as a Slytherin." He turned away. "I also don't want to let my family down."

"So talking to us, lets your family down?" Nim asked, almost in a laugh.

"Yes." Bill stamped his foot.

"How?" Nim raised an eyebrow.

"It…" Bill took a moment, but seemed to not find a sufficient answer. "It just does okay?" He ran off.

Nim debated running after. He didn't know why he was so drawn to Bill. He was prideful, arrogant, and a bit of a snob, but somehow, Nim knew he had a good heart. If he were going to make it in this school, he wanted to befriend people who had good intentions. He didn't know why, exactly. He just did.

"Don't let it get to you." Cyril said. He patted him. "Bill might come around. He might not. You can't force it."

"I suppose. I just…" Nim shook his head. "I just want things to go back to how they were, on the train, before the sorting."

"It was a nice train ride, wasn't it?" Cyril pondered. "Anyways, I promised Gisele I'd meet her to go over the Astronomy parchment. Care to join?"

"No I don't think so…" Nim said. "I'll cya around." He waved to Cyril as they split off.

It was a couple of hours later, that Nim curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace. The earthy smell of the burning, oaken smoke filled him with a sense of comfort. Miranda had strolled over and cuddled on his lap. Her purring soothed him. Maybe he wasn't the best wizard at this school, maybe he'd never find whatever camaraderie he had with Bill before, but right now, he was okay. He had the stone from Professor Coremund. It helped bring him to the current. He watched the flames crackle and sputter as they danced along the logs. The entire dormitory common room glowed with the embers.

As he ran his hand through the soft, warm fur of Miranda, he felt peaceful.

"Hiya Nim."

He turned around to see a bright faced Gryffindor approach. He was pale, but had dark brown hair. He had a semi pudgey face, and was dressed in Scottish garb. Kilt included.

"Hi umm…er…" Nim had seen him briefly at the sorting, but couldn't recall anything else about him.

"Macmillan," the boy plopped down next to Nim. "Russel Macmillan. You can call me Russ for short though." He held out his hand. Nim shook it, and the familiar spark zapped.

"Ouch, that's one nasty static shock there." Russ rubbed his hand.

Nim sighed. "Yeah…something like that." The fact that this had happened three times now, once with Rolf, once with Bill, and now with Russ, made him think there was something that connected the three.

"Well, in any case. No real harm done." Russ chuckled. "I saw you sitting all alone there with your cat and thought I'd join you."

"Thanks." Nim said. Truth be told, he had just started to enjoy the alone time.

"Where ya from?"

"London."

"Any wizards in the family?"

"None that I know of."

"Fascinating," Russ studied Nim. It was odd. This whole conversation was just odd. Nim wanted to get away, but couldn't find a good excuse. "Oh, I've bothered ya haven't I? I'm real sorry, I just don't have a lot of friends yet. These upperclassmen kinda keep to themselves ya know?"

Nim nodded. It was strange he hadn't seen much of the upperclass Gryffindors minus the prefects on their first day. "Maybe they're too good for first years?" He suggested.

Macmillan laughed. It was a loud, hearty laugh that rang throughout the common room. Other students who were there covered their ears. Nim included.

"That's a riot." He said after calming down. "Probably true though. We are just the annoying 1st years after all."

 _At least one of them was,_ Nim thought. "Something like that."

"Well, I can see you aren't really in the mood for talking. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow then?" He stood up and waved.

Nim couldn't think of a reason why he wouldn't see Macmillan. Curious he replied, "Is there something interesting going on tomorrow?"

"Yeah Quidditch tryouts. I figured most of Gryffindor is planning to go, on account of the tournament coming up. A bunch of sixth and seventh years are gonna try their hands at being champions. Leaves most of the field open. You should go." He grinned and walked off. He seemed to be headed for a really pretty blue eyed, brown haired first year girl in the corner. She didn't seem as enthusiastic about his joining her.

"Maybe I will." Thought Nim. Sure he wasn't an ace with a broom, but who knows. Maybe he had beginners luck.

\-------

That dream was soon shattered. He received notice at breakfast the next morning that he would be serving his detention that night during tryouts.

"That's awful." Gisele sat next to him in the great hall as he opened the letter. "I was hoping we'd get to go together." She twirled her spoon in her bowl. "I could use the encouragement."

"You're trying out?" Nim said. He smiled. "What position?" Not that he knew any of the positions, but he wanted to at least pretend to be interested in support of his friend.

"Beater." She grinned. "They get to use the Bludgers." She balled up one hand and crushed it into the flat palm of the other.

"Bludger?" Nim asked. Several other Gryffindors heard him and snickered.

"Yeah they do all of the smashing. It's what you can use to turn the tide in a game. I once saw a team lose because their seeker got hit by the Bludger."

Nim didn't know what a seeker was, but nodded, feeling like any other questions were just going to continue to destroy whatever non-existant credibility he had at this point. He wished Gisele luck before classes began. In potions, his usual group didn't quite finish the assignment, and were given an assignment to talk about different types of cauldrons and their variety of effectiveness. Coremund also reminded Nim after class about his detention being here.

There was nothing else of note per say, Professor Lupin still teaching different ways _Lumos_ could be applied, Professor Binns rambling on about various historical events, Professor Rosma talking about Mercury's effect on types of magic, and Professor Simone continuing having the class work on _Wingardium Leviosa_ , which Nim still couldn't get the exact pronunciation of.

After classes were over, Nim, with a yawn, began going back to the dungeon to the Potions classroom. He walked down the stairs and into the Great Hall. Just as he exited the other side of the Great Hall, he heard wimpering. His gaze shifted from left to right, but he couldn't see anyone.

"Hello?" He called. After a moment, he heard more wimpers and followed the sounds. Down half a flight of stairs, and off to the right, in a corridor, he saw someone laying on their side. He dashed down and crouched near him. "You alright?"

The figure turned over. Though his nose was bloodied and his fingers looked dislocated, Nim could still see in the faint light that it was Bill.

"Oh god." He watched as Bill sat up, muffled cries emitting. "What happened?"

"I…I'm a traitor…" Bill sobbed. "They…they don't care for traitors…"

"Hold on I…" Nim tried extending his hand to the others, but another shock sent a shriek through Bill and caused his nose to spurt blood. "What do I do?" He said.

"Wand…" Bill muttered taking a few deep breaths. "Point it at my right hand…"

Nim did as he was told.

"Say… _Episkey_ …" Bill leaned his head against the wall, struggling not to cry.

Nim was nervous. So far the only truly success he had was with _Lumos._ "But what if I hurt you?"

"Do it anyway…" Bill clenched his teeth in pain.

Nim didn't have a choice. He couldn't help Bill up, there was no one around, and if he did nothing, he'd be letting Bill suffer more. He took a breath and said, " _Episkey._ "

There was a warm glow. Bill's fingers cracked back into place on his right hand. He cried with each crack, but after the fifth one, he stopped. He stared at his hand and flexed it. After making sure it was usable again, he picked up his wand and cast _Episkey_ two more times, fixing both his left hand and nose.

Nim watched in amazement as the bones set themselves into place. For the first time, he was watching magic help someone. And he'd been a part of that. Well, with Bill's help.

"That hurt." Bill said after he'd finished and stood up. "Those bastards confronted me. You know the ones, Zarlot and her minions." He wiped his robes off. Dust billowed. "Said I was a traitor to the Slytherin house for associating myself with Gryffindor. To you." He looked at Nim. "They figured they'd break my hands so I couldn't cast spells…and my nose for good measure. It's not the first time it's happened, just the worst."

Nim felt his heart sink. "Because of me?" He felt cold and shivered. "I'm sorry I didn't know…"

"I know." Bill walked over. "I'm not stupid. You don't have…the same advantages I had growing up. I don't know much else, but being muggle born, you don't have knowledge that I do. You probably…" He shifted uncomfortably. "You're scared aren't you?"

There was a moment of mutual understanding between the two. Nim nodded in agreement.

"You don't know about the long standing rivalry between our houses, or that being muggle born is considered bad by some. You probably don't even know the positions on a Quidditch team. It's like, being thrown into a world you know nothing about." He paused. "We…aren't so different."

"What?" Nim's eyes widened.

"I mean, I know what it's like to feel like an outsider. Not from Slytherin…though there too I guess."

"So are you muggle born too?" Nim asked.

"Heaven's no." Bill blinked. "Thank god. I mean…nothing against you, but there's enough going against me as is. All I'm saying Nim, is that…I want to try again. You helped me just now. Without you I could have bled to death. My own house already loathes me. I have nothing left to lose. Can we…be friends?" He rubbed his left hand against his arm and blushed, turning away. "I know all that pride crap I said earlier. I just was afraid. I've…shamed my family in the past. I didn't want to do it again. But…I don't care anymore. What you did goes beyond House or blood ties. I'd be a fool to resist any longer. There's no pride in turning away those who care about you." He blushed even further.

"Yeah, but…you don't need to go giving any speeches." Nim snickered.

"Shut up." Bill replied and walked off. "We should hurry or we'll be late to detention."

Nim smiled. It finally felt like things were falling into place. He was starting to get back to how things were before the sorting.

Detention took forever. Professor Coremund lectured the three students on why it's important to only do spells in the safety of their own common rooms and in the classroom. He included history, incidents, and risks.

It was all very boring to Nim. He knew it wasn't okay to go around doing spells at will, and even so, they were here under the pretense of a lie anyways. It was dark when Professor Coremund dismissed them, telling them to submit a brief paragraph as to why it was important not to cast spells in the corridors.

Cyril broke off first, a little taken aback when Nim and Bill didn't immediately dismiss each other and seemed to be getting along.

"Bill." Nim said once they'd reached the Great Hall. The other boy stopped and turned.

"Yes?"

"I need help." Nim sighed. He always felt weak admitting he needed help, but really, he didn't have a lot of options left.

"With?"

"Spells and stuff." Nim said. "I'm struggling. It's…difficult…and you just seem to know all of these spells and charms and hexes. And…well I can't ask Rowena to help."

"Of course not," Bill snorted. "She'd just rattle your head off with a bunch of information that won't help. Well, fair is fair. I owe you, and you need help. I'll give you some pointers. We'll start tomorrow in the library, if that's okay with you." He waved and took off after Nim acknowledged.

Nim slept great that night. For the first time since arriving, it felt like things were going well. He had made all of his friends back, he'd gotten someone who could really help him with his studies, and started to find his place.

The next morning, after waking up to the sound of birds chirping, Nim ambled down to the bathrooms. While brushing his teeth, he checked to make sure he was fine. His bright blue eyes cheered back at him, and he combed his frizzy, short brown hair to keep it from going crazy. He splashed water over his ruddy cheeks and square jaw. Once satisfied, he went back up, threw his robe on, and wandered to the Great Hall where other students had gathered.

He plopped down next to Gisele, who sat, looking at her bowl of porridge and stirred it.

"Hey!" He beamed.

"Hi." She replied. She didn't take her gaze away from the bowl and continued stirring it. Nim knew something was up.

"What's up?" He asked, poking her shoulder playfully.

"Oh nothing," She sighed. "Just…"

"Just?" Nim asked after a moment.

"I didn't make the Quidditch team." She frowned.

Nim felt bad. While he was cheerful, she was distraught. He put his arm around her in an awkward side hug. "I'm sorry."

"It's…alright." She hugged him back. "There's always next year. I was just looking forward to it you know? My dad was kind of a big deal in the sport…"

"He was?" Nim asked.

"Yeah he was a beater on the Gryffindor team when he attended Hogwarts. There's actually a couple of trophies with his name on them. I was just hoping to live up to his name…" She sighed.

"Well, I'm sure-" But Nim didn't finish his sentence. A large, brown owl swooped down and dropped a package in front of them. Nim and Gisele both jumped back. She picked up the package which was poorly wrapped in brown paper with black shoelace string.

"It's for you." She said and gave it to him.

Nim couldn't even begin to fathom who would be sending him a package. He doubted his grandfather would, and he had no other friends or relatives outside of Hogwarts that he could think of.

"Odd that it doesn't say who it's from." She handed the package to him. "Open it, but be careful."

Nim gingerly took the package and slowly undid the string. He peeled back the paper with caution and lay it out. As he removed the final bits of paper, his eyes widened.

He could feel his pulse increasing, spreading over his body like wildfire. Panic began to sink in. His thoughts became sharp, clear, and a loud buzzing sound filled his whole world, followed by the ghostly screams of his mother calling him down to breakfast. They grew louder and louder by the second.

He let go of the packaging and let out a yelp, looking at the present Rathley had given to him for his birthday. The thing that he'd lost after they had died.

The alarm clock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just when everything was going so well…ah well, gotta keep the plot moving haha. Nim just can't seem to catch a break can he? At least he's befriended Bill again :) Was shocked when I finished this chapter tonight. Didn't think I'd be posting two when the day started. Pleasantly surprised! Going on a trip this next weekend so it kinda makes up for the fact that you probably won't see another update for a week or so. Anyways, as always thanks for reading! Hope to get some comments or reviews :D


	11. For Whom the Alarm Buzzes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim is shaken to the core from the most recent incident. His friends attempt to help him get back into the swing of school life.

Nim woke up in a cold sweat. The thin sheets of the hospital bed were drenched. He shook and slowly removed them. He tried standing, but his legs wouldn't support him. His whole body trembled. He shivered and crawled against the head of the bed, holding his knees close. How long had he been like this?

"I thought I heard something." Madame Thomasson brought the blinds back. She sat next to the bed, handing Nim a bowl of soup. "You've been out for a couple days. I'm sure you're starving." She waited a moment, but gave up. "It'll be there when you're ready." She set the tray on the nearby stand and walked off.

Nim could feel it inside. It crawled around him with it's centipede legs. It enveloped his body and twisted it's way into his core. His eyes shot open and he let out a sob. He covered his mouth with his hands and whimpered. Silent tremors emitted from his body. Tears came out in waves.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make the buzzing stop. But it didn't.

It was relentless.

Finally, he couldn't contain it any longer and grabbed the soup, pulling it up to his chest and gulping it, tasting the salt from the tears falling into it. The taste of chicken broth filled his body with a tinge of rejuvenation. Every so often, a bit spilled on the white robe he'd been fitted in. When had he put on a white robe? It didn't matter, he had to drown it. The damn thing. The fear that clawed him on the inside.

Then the bowl was empty. He had nothing left to hide behind. He wailed, thinking of seeing his family stone cold on the ground. Thinking of all the time he'd spent trying to bury it. And how fragile he'd been to let a stupid alarm clock dig it up again.

He rocked back and forth, unable to pick himself up.

He was broken.

The hours passed, and soon, the natural sunlight faded. Dark clouds formed, causing a shadow to cover the entire wing. Nim just lay there. It was still crawling. But he had no more tears to shed.

He felt empty, alone. He tried reaching his hand for the sheets, but it was no use, he couldn't will it to go any farther. It was easier to give up.

Then a warm hand was on his shoulder. He shuddered and tried to roll over to see who it was, but his weakened body just lay flat, like a limp noodle.

"Nimbus. I heard…"

Nim couldn't recognize the voice. Maybe it was because of the alarm buzzing in his ears, or the fear tickling at his ribs. He wanted to know.

"W…who…" His voice, raspy and dry croaked out a word, but nothing else came out.

"It's me, Professor Coremund. I came to check, it's been two days. Others are staring to worry." He said.

Nim didn't reply. What could he say? Even if he thought of something, he wasn't sure his voice could handle it.

"We had the alarm inspected, there weren't any jinxes or anything. Did give the Muggle Studies club a lot of chatter, I daresay." He chuckled. "I don't know," He stated after a moment. "What that alarm meant to you, but I can assure you it's being looked into. Just…take some time. We're here for you." Professor Coremund's hand left his shoulder, and soon the room was quiet again.

Nim's eyes were heavy. He couldn't keep them open any longer.

\-------

Nim struggled to stand, but finally managed. His legs wobbled, but he was able to get to the restroom to freshen up a bit. He trudged back and sat on the bed, just staring at the floor. It was the first time in days the buzzing had ceased.

"Nim?"

He looked up. He saw Rowena enter. She had a gold hairpin and a lovely dress with a blue embroidered emblem on it. She peered over and smiled as she saw him.

"Rowena…" He choked. He felt his throat close up and the fear crawling up his spine.

"It's okay." She glided over and sat next to him, embracing him with a hug. "God I've been worried. Lunch just isn't the same without you. I mean of course I care that you are okay too. I just meant you're one of my friends and all and it's just not the same. I hope you are doing alright, you gave everyone quite the scare when you passed out and-"

"Please, just…slow down." Nim managed. He'd fought the battle with his tears and won. Composed for the moment he managed a weak smile. "I'm okay."

Rowena nodded and smiled. She had a kind expression, one of genuine concern. "The others were worried too, you know. But they all had class right now. I thought I'd pop in, and then Professor Coremund mentioned…oh right sorry." She caught his look of exhaustion. "What happened exactly?" She stopped.

"The alarm…was my brother's." Nim shifted his gaze back to the floor. He heard Rowena gasp.

"You mean the one who died? I don't know…all the details…but…well the Headmaster…mentioned he died, and your parents too, when we asked. We were worried, you know." Rowena said.

Nim felt a little betrayed that the Headmaster had mentioned something, but at the same time he was a little grateful. It saved him the pain from having to break it to them.

"Yeah." Nim said. "I haven't seen it…in years." He sighed and lifted his head.

"But why would it turn up, all of a sudden?" Rowena tapped her finger on her chin. "I mean, it's odd isn't it? Who would know to send you something like that?"

"Maybe…" Nim thought. "No, that's silly."

"What?" Rowena shifted towards him. "You can tell me."

"Maybe it was Rathley."

"But," She gasped. "He's dead. Like…dead, dead. Right?"

"I think I saw him the other day." Nim said.

"But that's…" She frowned. "Nim how is that possible?"

"I don't know." He said.

"Maybe you should just start from the beginning. I promise not to talk." She put her hand on his and listened intently.

Nim hesitated, but figured there were worse people to tell. He started from the beginning, leaving out a lot of detail from when they died. He clearly couldn't handle most of that yet. Then he went on to the incident in the Joke Shop, followed by the meeting of the elf, and finally, to him seeing his brother…or something that resembled his brother on the edge of the forest.

"And you're sure it was your brother?" Rowena asked when he was finished.

"I'd never forget that grin." Nim closed his eyes. He was exhausted again. "I've never forgotten it."

"I mean you did see it from a distance, is there…a chance it was someone who looked like him?" She asked.

"No." Nim said. "Hagrid checked. There was no one."

"That's…strange." She turned to him. "I want to do some research on this. Are you okay with me helping? I know-"

"It's okay." He smiled. "I'm sorry I was such a prat about the whole thing. I know…you mean well."

"Oh Nim." She threw her arms around him and hugged. He gagged after a moment and she backed off. "Sorry…you probably haven't been eating well. Care for a chocolate? I can try to sneak one." She grinned.

"Since when have you ever snuck anything?" He asked. "You are like, miss perfect."

"Don't be silly." She glared for a moment. "I just want to make sure you are okay. I'm not perfect."

"I know. That was poorly worded…" Nim said. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I'm just glad you are okay. Try to get sleep. I'll share anything I find with you."

He nodded to her as she stood up. She waved and slipped out of the wing. The hospital was quiet, other than the snoring of some unfortunate Hufflepuff who had gotten a little too close to a wailing Mandragora baby. Apparently, it had done so much damage to his ears, that he couldn't even hear how loud he was. It sounded like five trains colliding with each other all at once with each heave.

He tried to rest, knowing he couldn't hide here from the alarm forever. He was already struggling with classes…

A laugh rang out.

Nim looked around, trying to get his wand. But he didn't find it before…

"Sickies! Sickies all of you!" There was a cackle as a ghost floated through the ceiling. He had a mischievous look about him. He had a spotted cap and pajamas. Nim recalled him from the first day when he threw snap its at everyone.

As he laughed and paraded around the room, shouting, some of the other students groaned. He started throwing fire crackers and scaring everyone.

"Peeves if I catch you, I will hex you." Madame Thomasson came from around a corner holding out her wand.

"Oooh I'm so scared." He grinned and tossed a firecracker at her. She helped and took a step back.

"Do you really want me to tell the Red Baron what you've been up to?" She asked. Peeves hesitated for a moment.

"Tsk fine." He scowled and floated away. The hospital, after being tended to, calmed down after awhile.

"Can I get you anything dearie?" Madame Thomasson asked, passing by Nim.

"No, I think I'm okay…would it be okay if I went back to my tower?" Nim asked. He knew it was probably a little early, but being alone, in his room with Miranda might be exactly what he needed.

"Let me check." Madame Thomasson took out her wand and with an intense blue ray, she scanned his body. It felt a little invasive, but he really didn't want to be in this hospital anymore. "Nothing seems wrong…you've come out of your coma…can you walk?"

Nim stood up. His legs were a little wobbly from a lack of food, but otherwise he took a few steps without any major issues.

"Well, if you're sure. I do think another night of rest here might do you good." She said. When Nim shook his head, she sighed. "Alright, well…just take this. You should be feeling almost back to normal by tomorrow." She handed him a small pouch. "Just pour it into hot water."

Nim took it and ambled out of the wing. The sun was down, so he figured it was later in the evening. There were a few students wandering the halls, but no one really paid any attention to him. He kept his composure and walked up to the fat lady, the portrait that guarded the Gryffindor tower.

"Tiddlywinks." He said.

As she swung open and he passed through, he swore he could hear her mutter something along the lines of 'false hope' and 'should change immediately.'

"Nim!"

As he entered, Gisele stood up. She'd been sitting, chatting with some other Gryffindor first years, including Russ Macmillan.

"Oh hey I-oof." Nim gasped as Gisele threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

"You scared me half to death." She broke away after a minute and slapped him on the shoulder. It didn't really hurt, it was more of a 'how dare you' type thing.

"Sorry…I-"

"And to top it off. Why did that alarm thingy freak you out so much?" She asked, not even giving him a chance to speak up.

"It-" Nim thought about it and paused. Maybe it wasn't the best time. "Can we talk about it tomorrow? I'm exhausted…"

"Yeah, sure okay. I'm just thankful you're alright. I was worried. Can I get you anything?" She asked.

"No, I've got it." He said. Russ and the others said their goodbyes as he left. He walked over to the boys' dormitory and went upstairs to his room.

\--------

Gisele wasted no time in asking him what had happened during lunch the next day. Though normally students sat at their own tables, Cyril and Bill had come over to listen in. Jeers of 'Nimbicyl' rang up as they did. Bill's nasty glares and snarls silenced most of them though. Nim explained how his family died a few years back and that the alarm had been his brother's. He also talked about what he'd seen on the edge of the forest, and the attack in the Joke Shop.

"Blimey." Bill said once he'd finished. "That's one messed up sicko."

"And you have no idea who might be doing this?" Cyril added, adjusting his glasses and taking a bite of cheese, which didn't help his mousey appearance.

"No. I mean…it's been proven that the dead don't just come back to life or anything." Nim said. "I've asked. Rowena said she was going to be looking into it-"

"So that's why she's been basically spending every free moment in the library." Gisele interrupted. "We thought it odd that she didn't even want to bother eating meals."

"She hasn't been eating?" Nim asked, his eyes widened.

"Not since yesterday during lunch." Cyril said.

Nim felt awful. "I should go find her." He stood up.

"I've got notes for you…we can review today after third period yeah?" Gisele called. Nim waved in acknowledgement.

"Let me come with you." Bill walked beside Nim.

"Alright, what for?" He asked.

"I just, I was worried about you, that's all." Bill folded his arms. "If you don't want me to come-"

"No no, it's fine." Nim said. He was glad Bill wanted to come. "Are we still on for lessons?"

"Keep your voice down." Bill hissed. Once he was sure no one else was around, he nodded. "Yeah, tonight, meet me up on the Seventh floor in the left corridor. I found a place. But I don't…really want people knowing we're doing this. Strict no magic policy you know?"

"Alright." Nim said. The pair of them arrived at the library shortly after. It didn't take them long to find Rowena. "Row-"

"SHHHH." A loud voice hissed. Nim watched an elderly man stand up behind the check out desk. He had a name tag on that read Mr. Umbridge. He had a very pug-like face and wiry thin white hair on either side of his humungous bald spot.

"Sorry." Nim said, with a hushed tone. "Rowena." He tapped her shoulder. She was slumped over a table with a book in front of her. Based on the rumbling, Nim gathered she'd fallen asleep.

With a gasp, Rowena shot up. "Oh for heaven's sake…" She blinked and rubbed her eyes. "Nim I've been looking all-" She yawned, trying to cover it. "-day."

"I know," Nim sat next to her. "We are here to tell you to go to sleep and eat something." He put his arm around her. "Come on." He helped her up.

"But…I need to find…" She tried to argue, but she yawned again.

"…your bed." Bill snickered.

"Be nice." Nim shot him a glare. "Let's go."

As they turned to leave, they faced Matilda, the Ravenclaw girl from Nim's Potions Class, standing at the entrance. She had on her gothic maid outfit and was staring at them.

"Can we help you?" Bill asked. He had an irritated tinge to his voice.

"By the end of your third year, one of your friends will meet their end." Matilda held out her hand. Her eyes looked glazed over.

Nim blinked.

He'd never heard her speak before. It was a deep, dark voice especially for a girl. She sounded like a chain smoker.

"Excuse me?" Bill asked. He looked furious. "What sort of thing is that to say to someone?"

Matilda's hand lowered at this and her eyes returned to their normal color. She shook her head. Then she turned away and walked off, as if nothing had happened.

"What an oddball." Bill said. Nim nodded. They continued, shrugging the odd encounter off.

The three of them made their way to Ravenclaw tower. Once they stood in front, Rowena staggered towards the eagle knocker that gleaned on the front. Nim noticed the door had no door handle. How was one supposed to get in?

"I got this." She waved them off. It was generally the policy of students not to share passwords…though not unheard of.

"Right, shall we?" Bill asked. Nim nodded.

"Night you two." She waved. They returned the pleasantries. Lunch was about over at this point, Nim passed along the note to Matilda, whom he ran into on the way to his next class, to let all of Rowena's professors know she had a slight cold and wouldn't be going to class. Though, based on the cold, quiet stare of Matilda's white face paint, he wasn't entirely sure if she was going to do anything. She still hadn't mentioned anything about what she'd said minutes ago, and though Nim wanted to ask, part of him didn't want to know what she meant. She wasn't exactly one for long…or any type of conversation even if he did want to know.

The remainder of courses were lost on Nim. From being gone almost a quarter of the sessions that had happened, he was at a loss. Professor Cera had actually docked him points because he wasn't able to answer a question. Even though she could have asked anyone, she insisted he answer, and he had to glare back at her, saying he didn't know until she finally sneered, took 20 points from Gryffindor, and let him sit. He was starting not to like her. Not that he ever did, but even more so, she made his blood boil.

Finally, once he'd finished with his classes, gotten notes from Gisele, and dinner was over. He followed Bill's instructions and casually strolled up to the 7th floor. He passed by a couple of portraits who eyed him while he walked. However, they didn't say anything.

"Did anyone follow you?"

Nim whipped around to see Bill peering from around a nearby corner. He shook his head.

"Good." Bill walked out.

Nim watched as he stood in front of a seemingly blank wall. "So what are we doing here?"

Bill didn't reply and closed his eyes. Nim felt silly standing there for a moment, and then something began chiseling into the wall. His eyes widened. The etchings of a door appeared. Once the outline was chiseled, it moved forward, creaking and groaning. Dust shook and made Nim's nose tingle. He sneezed.

"There we are." Bill said, walking up to the door. "The Room of Requirement."

"What's that?" Nim asked. Bill opened the door and he followed.

"It's a room that appears to whoever has a great need of it." He flashed a grin and opened it. "Apparently, we have a great need."

The room was mostly empty. There was a fireplace in the middle of the north wall. It crackled, but otherwise, with small objects littered here and there, it was devoid of…well anything of importance.

"How'd you find out about this place?" Nim looked around. His blue eyes filling with curiosity and wonder.

"My mother told me about it actually." Bill folded his arms and leaned against one of the walls. "Said she and my father met here. Apparently…they had need of a room." He sighed.

"I wonder what for." Nim stood next to the fireplace, the warm glow raising his spirits and warming him.

Bill laughed. "I wonder what for?" He said almost mocking. "Are you daft?"

"Am I what?"

"Never mind. I guess it's odd that I know about these adult things at such a young age." He shrugged. "Not important. Let's get started shall we? We have a lot of time to make up and god, you could use some time."

Nim wanted to argue, but couldn't deny this. He'd missed so much class and was so behind it'd almost take a miracle for him to keep up at this rate.

Bill and him went over charms first. Bill figured, the more he learned about charms, the more the rest would start to come naturally. They started with _Incendio,_ which he'd seen Bill cast on Zarlot back in the bathroom. Bill had to work with Nim several times before he could get the words to form correctly in his mind. He had particular trouble with the "io" on the end. Having to form his lips to make the "o" at the end be more pronounced.

Once he'd gotten the pronunciation. Bill focused on the correct motion for it. Again, Nim had a hard time remembering, but once it made sense, he used it in combination with the pronunciation. A couple sparks flew out the first time, but nothing like the flame that Bill conjured with almost no thought.

He tried a couple more times, but nothing close. However, on the ninth try…

"Brilliant." Bill watched as a small flame sputtered and latched onto the small paper he'd been practicing on. "Just keep practicing this one on your own."

Next was _Wingardium Leviosa_ , which took about as long as _Incendio._ By the time they were done, Nim was in a full sweat. He'd managed to make the paper levitate for a fraction of a second. And that was about all he could handle. He slumped to his knees.

"You're getting it. All that you need now is practice and time. It'll start to get easier." Bill put his wand away. "Speaking of time. It's getting late. There's a lot more we need to cover, but this is a good start. You've had enough."

Nim looked up and nodded. "Thanks. I feel better."

"Don't let people get you down Nim." Bill said. He started striding towards the door. "You are a good wizard. Just put in the effort and study, you'll get it." He smiled. It was the kindest look Nim had seen. Usually Bill had a smirk or scowl, but he appeared genuinely happy at the moment.

"You coming?" Bill asked.

"No, I think I wanna run through _Incendio_ one more time." Nim said.

"Suit yourself. Just…don't overdo it. Alright?" Bill waved and exited. Nim flicked his wand a couple more times once Bill was gone and said it. He managed sparks, but nothing substantial.

He was about to give up, but, stubborn and determined. He focused all of his energy on the paper in front of him, positioned himself, and shouted, _"Incendio!"_

The paper burst into flames. He grinned.

Then the room went dark and cold. The flame went out.

Time seemed to stand still and Nim looked around, reminded of the incident in the Joke Shop. He took out his wand and began to point around.

He was ready this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh looks like I managed to get an update in before my vacation! Woop now I can take a couple days off without worrying that this would be unfinished :) As always, thanks for reading. I love the comments and feedback I've been getting and also...I'm really really excited as to where this is going. I've had some...very fascinating and inspirational ideas hit me in terms of what to do with year one and future years ;) Please continue to give feedback and help :) Love my readers :D


	12. The Fifth Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim fights for his life in the Room of Requirement.

Nim readied his wand. Whatever mysterious force was behind this attack, he would attempt to fight back.

 _"Lumos."_ He whispered, keeping vigilant.

A brilliant light emitted from his wand and lit up the dark room. He waved it around, slowing his breathing. His hair stood up on the back of his neck.

Then he heard it.

A crack.

He whipped around. There was nothing there.

Then another crack behind him.

"Show yourself!" He shouted. His hands shook on the wand, trying to hold it steady.

Then the cold, coil once again wrapped itself around his neck. He struggled a moment, trying to pry it off, but then held up his wand.

"Wingardium Levi-ugh." Stars started to cloud Nim's vision. Breathing became nonexistent. His wand slipped out of his hand and cluttered to the floor, the bright light extinguished.

With one last desperate attempt, he grasped the rope with all of his might, but it was no use. His legs gave out and he slumped to the floor.

"Well now, we can't let the hero die so soon."

With a gasp, Nim's lungs expanded. Several deep breaths later and his vision became less blurry.

The voice belonged to the flamboyant elf, from his first day of classes.

"What's going on?" Nim asked. The elf's beady, yellow eyes looked at him. His wrinkled lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Oh you know, just a little witchcraft." The elf had a wand held out and pointed at the rope. It wasn't anything special, just a rope. "It's been enchanted to strangle." He flicked the wand and it fell to the ground. The cold feeling released Nim.

"There. Now, if you'll excuse me." The elf pointed his wand at himself.

"Wait, who are you?" Nim asked.

"I've told you before, that's not important-"

"It's important to me." Nim stood his ground.

"Well, if it's important to the hero." The elf batted his eyes. "Unfortunately, the tale will have to wait. I will tell you that I'm here on a promise. And you can call me, Starm."

"Why does it need to wait?" Nim asked. "And why do you keep calling me the hero?"

"Tut tut," Starm said. "Our time is up. Until next time." He smiled, pointed his wand to himself, and disappeared.

Then the door burst open.

Headmaster Potter stood in the entranceway, panting.

"Mr. Albacore…are you…alright?" He asked.

"I suppose so…what are you doing?" Nim asked back.

"Your ring it signaled for me."

"What took you?" Nim asked.

"Well funny thing, you can't apparate on school property…I didn't imagine you'd be attacked inside of Hogwarts…" Headmaster Potter said.

"Then what good is it doing me?" Nim asked, taking it off and handing it to the Headmaster.

"You should keep it…it's still better than nothing. What happened exactly?" He asked.

Nim put the ring back on. He had a point. "I was umm…attacked again. Like back in the Joke Shop." He pointed at the rope lying on the ground and rubbed his neck.

"By who?" The headmaster held out his wand and pointed it around the room.

"I don't know." Nim said. "All I know is that…what?"

Headmaster Potter pointed his wand at the rope. It glowed. Then it shook and started to melt. Soon the image of a very battered watch replaced the rope.

"But that's…" Nim looked at his wrist. In the confusion, he hadn't realized his watch was missing.

"This is very interesting magic." Headmaster Potter picked it up. "Someone enchanted it. However, it's not usable unless in close proximity with the enchanter. Is it yours?" He asked.

"Yeah, I've had it since…" He wanted to say since his parents had died, but couldn't will the words. Nimbus had taken the watch from his father's wrist before the police came. He didn't know why he took it, but something compelled him to. It was the last piece of his father, aside from the photo, that he still owned. "…since umm…" The words caught in his throat.

"Well, someone enchanted this. Are you sure there hasn't been another time this has happened?" Headmaster Potter asked. Nim shook his head. "Then it's very likely that whoever did this, did it to you in the Joke Shop…and there's a strong chance they are here now."

"Like in Hogwarts?" Nim asked.

"Yeah."

Neither one of them said anything for several moments.

"Well we should go back to my office. Not many people know about this room…I'd like to keep it that way. I won't even ask what you were using it for…" He said.

"Oh, I was just-"

"Please." Potter interrupted.

Nim nodded. He followed the Headmaster back to the office. After reviewing how the incident occurred, Nim specifically leaving out that Bill had been there and shown him, Headmaster Potter drew out a new plan. Other than in Gryffindor tower, Nim would never wander alone in the halls, for any reason. The ring was to be worn at all times. In addition, Potter would alert all of his professors to ensure he made it to class safely.

Nim wasn't a huge fan of the plan, but in light of what had just happened, and the fact it was the Headmaster assigning this, he couldn't really object. For the next couple of weeks, he went to class, always walked by one of his friends, or a Prefect, or on occasion a Professor. He continued his studies in private with Bill, under various lies of studying in the library, or visiting the lake, or some other excuse.

It was the week prior to Halloween, that the school was brought down, after dinner, for a special gathering in the Great Hall.

"Do you know what this is about?" Nim asked Cyril as they left the library. It had been spread by a flying note, dancing from student to student telling them all to come to the Great Hall.

"No," Cyril said. "I do have a suspicion though."

"Yeah?" Nim asked. Cyril and him hadn't spent as much time together lately. They only had Astronomy together. With the secret study sessions with Bill, that were going, better than expected, Nim had been preoccupied. "What do you think?"

"I think it has to do with the Tournament."

"Oh right." Nim had forgotten about the Triwizard Tournament with everything that had been going on. He hadn't even tried to check in with Eldora since the bathroom incident. "That's gotta be it."

It didn't take long for the two to arrive in the hall. They sat with their own house tables, which were mostly full by this point.

"This is unusual." Gisele said after Nim sat down next to her.

"Yeah, Cyril bets it's about-"

"Hello students."

The entire hall went silent. Headmaster Potter stood at the front of the class. He smiled and flicked his wand. A beverage was placed in front of every student. Each goblet was filled with pumpkin juice.

"I would like to take a moment to toast those who will be journeying with me tonight to Durmstrang Institute to participate in being ambassadors for this school for the Triwizard Tournament. It takes courage to decide you want to travel abroad, not only to study, but to voluntarily choose to represent our school in the prestigious tournament. Here, here!" He raised his glass, clanking it against Professor Coremund's.

There was a round of cheers and clanks, after which everyone took sips of their juice. Nim swished the brown liquid around for a minute before taking a brief sip of the earthy liquid. He wrinkled his nose.

"Secondly, I'd like to thank Professor Coremund who will be acting Headmaster while I journey with the students. All of my duties and responsibilities will be given to him while I am away." He gave a quick nod to Nim. Nim somehow knew this had to do with the ring. The Headmaster, followed by the students, once again did a round of cheers.

"And finally," Headmaster said, turning first to the students, and then to the other Professors behind him. "I'd like to make an announcement that's sure to make a few heads turn." He smiled and began to pace. "Every year, each house gets to have a Quidditch team to participate for the House Cup. In light of promoting inter-house cooperation, and based on an anonymous suggestion, I have chosen to implement a fifth Quidditch team, sign ups for which will be posted outside each common room. The captain for this team will be announced based on sign ups."

No one spoke.

Nim saw Gisele's eyes light up as he announced this. He knew she'd been bummed after not making the Gryffindor Team. This news was probably like early Christmas for her.

"In any case, once we are finished with our beverages. I would ask that all students, wishing to partake in a year abroad, to join me out front."

Everyone gulped down their beverages and went to the front doors to watch as the 5th, 6th, 7th, and spectating 4th years left. Nim caught the vibrant red hair of Eldora. She hesitated for a fraction of a moment, but ultimately chose to join. She glanced back at Nim and smiled, offering him a brief wave. He returned it, and silently wished her luck.

No sooner had the students dispersed, Gisele grabbed Nim's hand and dragged him to the tower.

"Now we can both sign up for a team!" She grinned and eagerly wrote her name on it. She handed him her quill. "You too right?"

Nim wasn't so sure about this. He could barely mount his broom in class, but seeing the pleading look on Gisele's face, he couldn't resist. He scribbled his name onto the roster.

"Awesome." Gisele grinned. The pair of them entered the tower after. Gisele's cat, Grendel, greeted them as they entered. His gray, matted fur, and large appearance, made him look a little like a small raccoon. He rubbed up against Gisele's leg, and hissed a little when he noticed Nim behind her. "Shush Grendel. How many times do I have to tell you that Nim isn't bad?" She rolled her eyes and Nim chuckled.

Tonight was Nim's night off from lessons with Bill, and he was looking forward to just enjoying some time to himself. After saying goodnight to Gisele, he went up to his room. It was getting much chillier at night, and he'd been given an extra blanket. He curled up in the blankets, after finishing his nightly routine, and gazed around the room. He wondered what sorts of things champions had to do in the Triwizard Tournament. It obviously involved dangerous things, hence why there was a risk factor involved.

His thoughts wandered while he lay there. He thought about the moons of Jupiter from his Astronomy textbook, the proper hand motions involved in the Spongify spell from Charms class that they were going to be tested on in a month, thinking about Cyril's archeologist parents, and finally, he thought of the ghostly figure of Rathley he'd seen. It had been about a month and a half since he'd started attending Hogwarts, and already things were crazy.

Miranda leapt onto the bed. She pawed a bit at the blankets, making a sort of circle that only her little cat brain could understand the purpose of. Then she placed her front paws on Nim's stomach, mewed softly, and lay down, purring the whole while.

Nim felt a connection to Miranda that he didn't understand. Why was he so taken with this cat? He ran his hand along her black ear, feeling the softness. All of his thoughts melted as she leaned into his touch.

Together, as Wizard and cat, the pair of them slept, uninterrupted and blissfully at peace.

\---------

Tryouts came two days before Halloween for the Inter-House team. Nim had tried being more agile on his broom in Flying Lessons, but so far struggled to even keep himself right side up.

"Isn't this exciting?" Gisele grinned at him. She was clad in gear from head to toe. She looked like she'd played for years.

"Yeah." Nim said, mostly for politeness sake.

She grinned, "I wonder who all will show up."

"Apparently every reject of every house."

Nim and Gisele turned around. Nim smiled as Bill walked down the slope towards the Quidditch stadium. He had on a green cape and a green fedora with a pheasant feather tastefully strewn on the right side. His outfit complimented his eyes, which in the shockingly sunny October day, glinted in the sun.

"You look like Robin Hood." Gisele snickered.

"Shut up." Bill said. He stopped. "What is Robin Hood?"

"Forget about it." Gisele rolled her eyes. Nim stifled a laugh. He'd heard of Robin Hood growing up, but maybe because it was a muggle thing, the tale hadn't been told to Bill. Either way, it was funny to watch him fluster.

"Listen up!"

All three turned to the nearby Quidditch field. On top of a small podium, a boy with piercing hazel eyes and red hair matted to the left side of his head stood. He had his hands cupped around his mouth to project.

There were about thirty hopefuls who had shown up, including Nim, Bill, and Gisele. They all gathered around the boy.

"As some of you may know, my name is Gresham Ward. I am from Ravenclaw and was a member of the Quidditch team for the last three years." He jumped off of the podium and approached all of them one by one. "Quidditch isn't a sport for the weak. It isn't a past time for those needing something 'recreational' on their resume. And if you think you are going to be God's gift to this team, you can leave now." He eyed a couple large Slytherins up and down. No one left. "Good. I want people who are passionate and dedicated. And who won't mind facing ridicule. We are going to be laughed at. Called traitors to our Houses. We are going to be rooted against almost 100% of the time. In order for us to gain glory, there is only one option. To assemble the best team, and prove all of those gits wrong." He flashed a grin. "I am here, because I have been named Captain of this team. I also will be filling the role of Keeper."

Several students groaned at this.

"Even if you had your heart set on being a Keeper. I want all of you to try out for every position. I'm not going to single you out, or make you try out for a specific position like the other houses. I want the best. Be open to any and everything thrown at you. Don't hold back." He finished.

Ward began with a group of hopefuls including Gisele. Nim watched as they were all placed into positions. He saw Ward release several balls. The small, golden Snitch, followed by the two jet black Bludgers, and then he tossed the red Quaffle up last, and they were off. He knew enough about the sport from the various lessons Professor Gezbel had given. He watched Gisele soar with the Quaffle, avoiding Bludger after Bludger from the various beaters. She'd make excellent assists, brilliant dodges, and occasionally would outsmart Ward to score. She was a natural.

"Excellent, that's enough." Ward waved the first group away and called on the next. Bill was part of it. He tried his hand at beating a beater, but wasn't very good. Nim and Gisele had to hide smirks as time after time, he missed connecting with the Bludgers, swearing after each miss.

Then the final group was called up. Nim was nervous. He was assigned to be a seeker, but was as useless as the last two had been. So far every seeker had failed to find the Snitch. After twenty minutes, Nim joined them.

For several hours, the rotations continued, however Gisele almost always was placed in the position of Chaser.

In the second to last rotation, someone finally caught the Snitch. Bill floated down on his broom, holding the tiny golden ball in his fingers. It had only taken him a couple minutes.

Nim was placed in the position of Chaser for the final rotation. He'd failed at being a beater, he'd been a miserable seeker, and had subpar flying. However in this final rotation, he and Gisele worked well together, coordinating their efforts in order to get the Quaffle to the goal. Though Gisele did most of the calling, Nim had avoided a Bludger that even shocked himself. Under the pressure of being smashed to smithereens, he'd flown better than he ever had. At the end of the field, he'd managed not to fumble the Quaffle long enough to toss it to Gisele who swooped above Ward and in an impressive display, dived and tossed it with a unique backspin. She grinned as it bounced off of the bottom of the hoop and ricocheted through it. Several of the students sitting on the sidelines cheered.

They gave each other a high five and Ward blew his whistle.

"Good show everyone. Brilliant flying. I think we are going to make the Houses sorry they ever passed us up…or didn't do enough to recruit us, or whatever." Ward chuckled. Others joined. "I will post the official list outside of each house by tomorrow night. For those who weren't chosen, I just want to say that I admire your courage. Don't ever stop fighting for your passions. That's all."

Everyone was dismissed.

"You are bloody brilliant." Bill walked over to Gisele. "I didn't know you could play like that."

"Says her dad was a player. Probably gets it from him." Nim said.

"Really?" Bill asked.

"Yeah…his name's on a couple trophies in the Gryffindor tower." She said. "It's nothing really, I just love Quidditch. And how about that captain? I like his attitude."

"You sure that's all you liked?" Bill waggled his eyebrows. It was nice to see him loosening up around them.

In the weeks Bill had come back into the group, Nim had noticed considerable changed. He'd gone from uppity prat, to member of the gang. He was talking to Rowena, playing chess with Cyril, and even had partaken in a pumpkin juice drinking contest with Gisele, which he lost miserably. Nim liked this.

"Oh shut up." Gisele punched his arm. He winced.

"Did the big brute hurt you?"

The three of them whipped around. Zarlot and her goons were there. She sneered at them.

"Oh look, you're actually approaching a group with the same number of people. So you do play fair then?" Bill said. His eyes narrowed.

"Well I wouldn't really call it fair." Zarlot went doe-eyed, as if trying to play the innocent. "I mean having Windsforth is like having three people in one." Rolf and Stu cackled at this.

"They aren't worth our time." Gisele turned and walked away. "Let's go." Bill and Nim followed.

"That's right." Rolf said. "Walk away. You yellow-bellied gits ain't got no guts. Shocking seeing as you are practically talking to a troll."

Nim felt red. It was slowly rising. It started in his curled fists, and went through his tense back. It crawled up his neck and soon, it reflected in his eyes. He turned around, whipped out his wand and shouted, _"Rictusempra!"_ It was one of the jinxes he'd been working on with Bill in studies.

A beam of red emitted and hit Rolf square in the temple. He fell over. Stu went to help him up, and a loud cackle emitted. Rolf was laughing uncontrollably.

"I really do enjoy this."

All students, minus the ever laughing Rolf, turned to see the familiar stilettos approaching. Cera's black, billowing robes flowed behind her, even as she stopped and folded her arms. She waved her wand and Rolf stopped laughing.

"40 points from Gryffindor. And don't think I won't be telling your House about this. I'll let him determine an appropriate punishment…and I can guarantee it won't be a lecture this time." She winked. The other Slytherins snickered.

Nim stood there, long after Cera and the other Slytherins walked off. In his blind rage, he hadn't even considered the consequence of his actions.

"Come on then, what's done is done." Gisele put a hand on his shoulder.

But it wasn't done yet.

Word soon spread around the campus like wildfire. It had been a long time since a 1st year had lost so many points, so quickly, for any one House. In addition, it didn't help that people also figured out he had tried out for the Inter-House team. Nim could feel the icy daggers of glares being shot at him, from basically every Gryffindor. Even Russ distanced himself. The only comfort he found during this time, was in the meetings his group had. Gisele especially. It was nice to know he wasn't alone. A couple of the upperclassmen had harassed him verbally in the Gryffindor common room that night, but Gisele stood up for him. He was okay as long as she was around.

It was Halloween Day Eve and classes had ended. Gisele and Nim excitedly ran up to Gryffindor Tower. Bill had found them just moments ago and said the list had posted, but refused to tell them the results, teasing them intentionally.

They raced, their feet making loud pounding noises against the cobblestone steps. It wasn't long before they arrived outside the portrait of the fat lady. A note was tacked up next to her:

Roster for the Inter-House Quidditch team:

Seeker: William Kensington (Slytherin)

Beater 1: Cameron Coddles (Hufflepuff)

Beater 2: Moira Almara (Ravenclaw)

Chaser 1: Gisele Windsforth (Gryffindor)

Chaser 2: Sineus Knott (Slytherin)

Chaser 3: Nimbus Albacore (Gryffindor)

Nim could hardly believe his eyes. He and Gisele glanced at each other and grinned. Then Gisele wrapped him in a hug.

"We did it!" She cried. A tear actually rolled down her face.

"Yeah, we did." Nim smiled. He'd almost completely forgotten about his punishment in this moment, well almost. It arrived afterwards, just before he and Gisele were going go to find the others to celebrate. A snowy white owl had delivered it.

"Please stop by tonight before bed to discuss the terms of your punishment.

~Professor Neville Longbottom"

Nim groaned, he really didn't want to go.

"Right." Gisele said after he showed her. "Let's go then."

"I'd much rather celebrate…" Nim said.

Nim knew he wasn't supposed to be alone. He would protest, but trusted that Headmaster Potter's plan never to have him be alone was solid. Gisele and the others had been notified, of course and were more than willing to assist. He hadn't known them long, but Nim was grateful for his friends.

They arrived in front of a small study just off of the first floor corridor. The door opened with a "come on in" sort of attitude. Nim walked inside.

"Ah, Mr. Albacore. Good of you to show." Professor Longbottom sat behind a desk on the other side of the room. There were vines and plants growing all over the office, giving it an "urban jungle" sort of feel. There were clear paths in the floor to follow and Nim did so, taking a seat in the obvious chair in front of the desk. "Miss Windsforth, thank you for escorting Mr. Albacore. I will take it from here." He smiled.

"Alright, take care Nim." She waved and took off.

"Shut the door behind you, if you please." Professor Longbottom called. Gisele nodded and complied. "Let's get the obvious out of the way." Longbottom took out a piece of parchment. "It says here, you used…a jinx on a student in the halls. Is that correct?"

"Yes." Nim didn't see the point in lying. There were witnesses including Professor Cera.

"And you did it, in full knowledge that you are not supposed to, correct?"

"Yes. But-"

"Were you in mortal danger of any sort?"

"No. But-"

"Were you provoked?"

"Yes." Finally an answer that Nim could get on board with.

"In what way?" Professor Longbottom leaned forward.

"What do you mean?" Nim asked.

"In what way were you provoked?"

"Well, Rolf called Gisele a troll." Nim said.

"Did he in any way call you anything?" Professor Longbottom asked.

"No, but-"

"That's all." Professor Longbottom sat back in his chair. Nim didn't dare interrupt. "I think I have a good idea of what happened. You stood up for a friend. In doing so, you were 'provoked' into casting a jinx. You know Nim, while I think it's admirable you care about your friends. Jinxing and hexing every student who calls someone a name isn't the way issues get solved. At least not at Hogwarts."

"Yes, sir." Nim sighed.

"It sounds like you understand. So now it's time to give you a punishment. I think…" Professor Longbottom rubbed his chin. "Detention for two nights ought to do. I'll let you know when I find a suitable task for you to complete. Now…" He pushed his glasses up, raised his wand, and lit a brilliant fire in the fireplace. "Let's get to the other thing I want to address."

For a moment, neither man spoke. "And…what's that?" Nim raised an eyebrow.

"Your safety." Professor Longbottom folded his arms. "I know this whole…arrangement may seem extreme, but-"

"It's okay, really. I'm not a huge fan of being strangled." Nim interrupted.

Professor Longbottom chortled. "Yes, well I suspect no one does. In any case, I wanted to let you know that I've been given the alarm for inspection. So far though, it just seems like a normal alarm…albeit completely suspicious that it belonged to…well you know."

"Yeah." Nim said.

Professor Longbottom gave a consoling look. "Are you alright? I heard it gave you quite the fright."

"It's fine." Nim didn't like his tone. It made him seem like he was afraid or something. "Just, caught me off guard. That's all. Honest."

"Alright. Oh," Professor Longbottom stood up. "Congratulations on the Quidditch team by the way. I know it's probably not easy…with the whole Inter-House thing. But I think it's pretty brave that you tried out." He held out his hand to shake.

Nim reached out, and just as their fingers grazed one another.

BZZZT.

Nim raked his hand back. Again?

"Huh." Professor Longbottom shook his hand. "What was that? Do you have one of those Buzzing Flibbertygibbits from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, or something?"

"No I-"

But before Nim could respond, the door swung open. Professor Coremund stood in the entry way, panting. He hurried in and slammed the door behind him.

"Can I help you?" Professor Longbottom asked.

Coremund shook his head, caught his breath, and then said, "There's been a death."

"A death?" Longbottom's face went white.

"Yes, and Nim," He turned to the boy. "It's someone you know."

"Who?" Nim asked.

"Peter Pontaine."

"Umm…" Nim scratched his head.

"Oh right, you probably knew him as Pete, maybe?"

Nim felt the blood drain from his face. The image of Pete's Market formed in his head and his thoughts wandered to the familiar, wrinkled face that had given him the pepperoni stick for his birthday

His heart sank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Approaching the Holidays (in the story lol)...but not before a turning point in this story :) The mysteries continue to pile on :O Also with Headmaster Potter no longer at Hogwarts, will Nim be in more danger than he can handle? ;) Thank you so much for reading. Please continue to comment, give me feedback, and most important of all, keep reading :) Love all of my readers :D


	13. In Memoriam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim comes to terms with the recent loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the memory of a friend who passed away on 03/29/16 suddenly and unexpectedly. Originally this was supposed to be the token "Halloween" episode, but in light of the events that have transpired, it didn't feel appropriate. It's also the shortest chapter in the story, thus far. I sit in tears writing this chapter and I hope I do him justice. Thank you to all of my readers. I have no additional notes to add after this chapter is over and I'm sorry if it's a downer. May my friend rest in peace.

Nim didn't know Pete very well. They hadn't had any regular visits. What few times his grandfather let him go shopping, there hadn't been more than a pleasant hello or goodbye between the two.

Yet the news hit Nim hard. In a world of beatings from a cane, buckets filled with unspeakable contents, and thin, cat piss filled mattresses, Pete's smiling face had been a little ray of sunshine. He enjoyed going to the market and feeling like someone cared about him, those years when he was alone, for all intents and purposes.

A tear rolled down his face. He'd been sitting in Professor Longbottom's office, feeling the salty sting that came with each tear that he rubbed away. Coremund and Longbottom discussed amongst themselves on the other side of the desk, which was for the best. Nim's emotions were nothing short of a roller coaster. One moment, he'd been on top of the world knowing he made the Quidditch team, and the next, he felt cold and alone, even with two Professors talking in hushed whispers so close.

It dawned on Nim, sitting in the office, alone to his thoughts, that he'd never even gotten the chance to thank Pete for his birthday present. Of everyone in the entire world, only two people had given him birthday presents this year. To anyone else, it would have seemed insignificant, but to Nim, it showed him the kind of person Pete had been. Even in the small interactions the pair had, he'd done something nice, remembered his birthday, and wanted him to know he was cared about.

Nim wrapped his arms around his shoulders and sobbed. There was so much he wanted to say to Pete, how much he'd meant to him in the short period of time they'd known each other.

He wanted to say thank you.

He wanted to tell him he'd made a difference.

He wanted to repay the kindness in some way.

But he'd never get the chance again.

All Nim could do now was cry. Cry for the unspoken friendship the two had shared. Cry for the brief moments the pair had shared. Cry for the family probably devastated over the loss. Cry for…whatever else didn't come to mind.

A warm hand clasped on his shoulder. He looked up to see Professor Coremund giving him a comforting gaze. His eyes softened and sympathized. Nim wrapped his arms around the Professor. He didn't know how long had passed, he didn't care.

Eventually, he'd left and gone to bed, Coremund walking him back to his tower.

The next day, Rowena shared a copy of the Daily Prophet, one of the major wizarding newspapers. Pete's death, while not on the front cover, was covered on page 3. It had been written by a friend of Pete's.

"For those who didn't know Pete. I can sum his entire persona in just one word: care. For the 29 years that Pete and I were friends, I never once knew him not to embody the spirit and meaning of the word. He'd always go out of his way to make sure everyone knew that.

Pete always showed how much he cared for me. He knew my love of Quidditch and would always buy me World Cup tickets. I recall going to every game and cheering for my favorite team, the Kenmare Kestrels. And right there, the entire time they were playing, I remember Pete cheering and clapping his hand on my shoulder. He wasn't particularly into Quidditch, but the fact that he cared enough to do something that I enjoyed doing, speaks volumes to his character.

For those who did know Pete, I think you will echo the remorse and saddness we all are feeling.

So I say this to everyone who knew him.

Remember how much a simple act of kindness can bring. Remember the life and love you were shown by a man you may have barely known, or have known for years. Remember how much a man can care.

Remember Pete."

The article went on to read about the time and date of the funeral and condolences for the family and friends suffering over the loss. It also stated more information about the death would be revealed in a future edition.

Nim wiped a tear from his eyes and shut the paper, handing it to Rowena who leaned into him, wrapping her arm around him.

Nim closed his eyes, and uttered the words he'd wished he'd been able to say out loud to Pete.

"Thank you for the birthday present."

"Huh?" Rowena asked.

"Nothing, just…had to say goodbye."


	14. Follow the Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Halloween at Hogwarts, what could be more fun? :)

If the decorations, strewn in orange and black with bits of yellow, didn't scream Halloween, Nim didn't know what would. Black cats were running rampant, ghosts including those of Nearly Headless Nick and the Red Baron, and suits of armor whose heads moved, were more dead giveaways of the holiday.

It couldn't have been more than a couple hours since reading the article, but Nim already felt somewhat better. Seeing all the decorations, the excited chatter of other students, and knowing that Quidditch practices were approaching soon. It took his mind off of things he didn't want to be thinking about.

Rowena, in particular, had gotten into the holiday. She'd worn a very tall black hat, a silky orange blouse, and a pair of black high heels. Small pumpkin earrings dangled and she had very dark make up on. Nim could have sworn she was wearing pumpkin flavored perfume.

"Don't you look festive?" Nim said as she skipped over.

"Just want to dress up. I love Halloween!" She grinned. She sat down next to Nim. They were enjoying a myriad of treats ranging from Pepper Imps to Honeydukes Candy Floss to Exploding Bon Bons. Cyril, Gisele, and Bill were making a bit of a game out of chasing Chocolate Frogs around the grounds. Classes had canceled for the day in light of the holiday.

"Are you feeling better?" Nim asked.

"Why?" Rowena gave him a quizzical look.

"Just, you've been searching very hard…and I worry about you sometimes. You don't have to kill yourself over all of this, you know?"

"I know. I just…I hate that someone is out there, plotting on ways to make you afraid or trying to frighten you."

"What I don't get…" Nim said, tossing back a Ton-Tongue Toffee, then washing it down with a swig of Fizzing Whizbees. "Is why. I mean, why bother sending me reminders of the past? If it's not my brother being a git…then what's the purpose?"

"I reckon it's to keep you on edge." Rowena said. She took a very dainty bite of a Chocolate Cauldron. "I mean…why else would you do that? It's a really rotten thing to do otherwise."

"But why keep me on edge?" Nim asked.

Rowena didn't reply. For the first time since he'd met her, she didn't have an answer.

"Did you find anything?" Nim broke the silence.

"As a matter of fact-"

"You two just going to sit there, not enjoying any of this?" Bill asked, running over and grinning. He had on a very loose fitting long sleeved turtleneck. It was maroon with a golden K stitched into the shoulder.

"We were just talking about…research." Rowena said. Bill laughed at this.

"When aren't you talking about it? Cmon! Let's enjoy ourselves." He ushered for them to come. "Who knows when it's going to be this nice again? Winter's right around the corner."

Nim and Rowena looked at each other.

"Later then?" He asked.

She nodded.

It was settled.

The pair of them stood up and followed Bill. The day went by fast, after chasing loose chocolate frogs, they skipped stones on the lake, seeing if the giant squid would make an appearance, but it didn't. Then, the crew explored the castle a bit. They interacted with some of the pictures who had fascinating stories to tell.

It was nearly dinner time, when they approached a door that said, "Hogwarts Caretaker's Office."

"Oh…" Nim paused. It had been his grandfather's profession. He remembered Professor Coremund mentioning it.

"What is it?" Cyril asked,

"I think…" Nim walked up to it. "I think my grandfather worked here once…"

"Your grandfather was a Caretaker?" Bill asked. His nose wrinkled. "I bet that was a hellish job."

"Wait, are you related to…Filch?" Rowena asked.

"Yeah that's his name." Nim said.

Rowena let out a gasp.

"What?" Nim asked. Rowena shook her head. "Come on, spit it out."

"Alright." Rowena said. "It's probably best if you don't…go spreading that around."

"Why?" Cyril asked.

"Caretaker Filch wasn't known for having a…sterling reputation." Rowena fidgeted. "I don't know how to say this…but I'm pretty sure a lot of people hated him."

No one spoke for a couple of minutes.

"Okay." Nim said. "Thanks for that." He didn't need another reason for people to hate him.

"What are the lot of you doing?"

The group spun around to see an elderly lady, with wiry, gray hair and yellow, crooked teeth standing behind them. She scowled, holding a mop in one hand. She had on a purple dress with a white apron covering it.

"Nothing, we just…were walking by." Gisele said.

"Well then," The woman growled. "You best keep on walking then. Wouldn't want you to be suspected of plotting to sneak into my office."

"Your office?" Cyril asked.

"Yeah, I gather you haven't met me yet. Good riddance. Once the lot of you go do whatever you want to, I can re mop these filthy covered floors. Get going you little wankers!" She came at them with her mop as if brandishing some sort of weapon.

They didn't need to be told twice. They hurried off until they were sure the old lady was out of sight.

"What a dreadful woman." Rowena said, catching her breath. "That must be Margot. The caretaker…"

"I've heard of her." Bill said. "Nasty lady…probably appropriate given her predecessor…no offense." He glanced towards Nim.

"None taken." Nim was far from being offended. He'd lived with Filch…he knew how he could get. He was certain most rumors weren't far from the truth.

"We should get going." Gisele suggested once they had a moment to catch their breath. The others nodded. It was around dinner time, and according to Rowena, the Halloween dinner was second only to the Winter feast before the break. None of them wanted to miss it.

Sure enough, once they were seated with their houses, mounds of food appeared. Roasted pheasant filled Nim's nostrils with savory delight. Baked potatoes with steam still rising off of them made his mouth water. Biscuits and Ginger Newts lay around the table waiting to be claimed. There were even a few dishes that Nim didn't recognize. He eagerly filled his plate with a bit of everything and dug in.

The next 30 minutes or so were a bit of a blur for Nim. He was enjoying so much food and laughing with the other Gryffindors as they did impressions of Professor Cera so hard, that he forgot about the previous events of the last couple of days. All that he could see were the mounds of food, and those around him.

"And how are all of you tonight?"

Nim watched as the ghost of Gryffindor house came down. He'd seen the apparition a couple times at meals now. His name was Nearly Headless Nick, appropriately named because he could pull his head off almost all the way, minus one little grotesque strand of flesh. It caused Lucinda Mills, another first year Gryffindor, to toss her cookies at a prior meal.

"Well, thanks Nick." Gisele said. A piece of potato spit out of her mouth as she spoke. Her face turned bright and Nim covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.

"It's always so nice when the whole of Hogwarts comes together to celebrate holidays. How are your classes going?" He turned to Nim.

Nim hesitated. On one hand, his charms and defense against the dark arts courses had turned around with Bill's help. On the other…he was basically failing every other class.

"Fine overall I guess." Nim said. He picked up a pheasant leg and took a bite. It was quite tender, very similar to chicken, with a slightly more savory after taste.

"Good!" Nick smiled and swooped over to another group of Gryffindor 2nd years and started talking to him.

"You're a terrible liar…" Gisele snickered. "You know you could just ask Rowena or Cyril for help. I doubt Bill would do that for anyone other than himself." She snorted at her own joke. Nim laughed as well, even though he knew the last bit wasn't true.

"I guess…dunno about Rowena. I mean she's nice and all, but-"

"Hah. That's a laugh." Gisele rolled her eyes.

"What?" Nim asked.

"That girl drives me insane. One minute she's rambling on about some stupid war that no one even cares about, and the next she's mad at you for not paying attention. It's like…well duh we weren't paying attention, it was stupid. You know?" She said.

Nim stared at her. "But she's nice."

"Nice to you." Gisele grit her teeth. "She treats me like I'm some blundering idiot."

"I'm sure that's not true…" Nim said. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh but it is." Gisele slammed her fork down on the table. "She's awful. She all but calls me stupid to my face. And that hoity-toity attitude of hers. It's like interacting with some all knowing being."

"But she's been helping me a lot…" Nim tried to plead a case for her.

"Oh yeah? What exactly has she found?" Gisele asked. "So far it just seems like she's reading to do what she always does…get more knowledge to put the rest of us down." She stood up. "I've lost my appetite."

The entire length of table full of Gryffindors gaped as she said this. Gisele saying she had no appetite was unfathomable.

"Gisele…please…" Nim said.

"I'll see you later."

And with that Gisele walked off. Before she left, Rowena entered the hall, probably from having just used the restroom or something. The pair of them shared a glare before parting.

"What's eating her?" Rowena asked, stopping to sit next to Nim.

"She's just…tired." Nim didn't know what to say.

"She's going down a bad path."

"What?" Nim wasn't even really sure he wanted to know, but not following Rowena's train of thought once again he felt like trying to keep up.

"You don't see it? She has no respect for authority, she has terrible study habits, and her social skills are abysmal." Rowena said. "I hear rumor that her father was a trouble maker too."

"Rowena I-"

"And what's more," Rowena continued as if Nim hadn't spoken up. "She doesn't even really try. She just pushes her way through everything. She doesn't care who she pushes over."

"Enough." Nim stood up. He wasn't going to sit here and take it any more. "I appreciate all of the research you've been doing to help me, and letting me borrow your notes on occasion, but I'm not going to stay here and let you talk bad about my friends."

"Nim I…I just meant-"

"I know what you meant." Nim stopped her. The people around them had stopped, painfully aware an argument was happening in the middle of a feast. "You are both my friends and I'm not going to sit here and let you badmouth each other in front of me. When you decide to grow up and start treating each other decently let me know." He stormed off. He didn't care that everyone was watching him leave. He wanted to go find Gisele and make sure she was okay. She'd left abruptly and he worried what she might do. A part of him wondered when he'd grown the backbone to stand up to a friend.

He dashed out of the hall and made his way up to the tower. He stood in front of the Fat Lady once he'd reached the Gryffindor entrance.

"Harpy Stew…" He very much disliked the new password.

"Needs just a pinch of salt to cook right." The Fat Lady winked at him and swung open, revealing the entrance.

Nim went inside and looked around, he didn't see her anywhere.

"Hello?" He called out.

"Hello." A voice replied. Nim watched as Russ stirred from the couch in front of the fireplace. He was wrapped in a blanket and looked paler than normal. He smelled strongly of mint and lemon…with a hint of vomit below it all.

"Russ, you look…awful." Nim plugged his nose.

"I know. Got a bad case of the stomach flu…urgh." He burped. The stench overpowered the mint and lemon. "Isn't there a feast or something?"

"Yeah, but Gisele left early. I wanted to make sure she was okay." Nim said.

"Gisele…left already?" Russ asked.

"Yeah…I figured she'd be here. Did she ummm?" Nim blinked.

"No." Russ said. "I haven't seen her…or anyone really since the feast started."

Nim sat down in one of the nearby armchairs and started to think. He tried to visualize where she might have gone to, maybe the Quidditch field to blow off steam? Maybe down the hallway to see her father's trophy? Nothing though, seemed as compelling as her need to be alone in her room. So where was she?

Then he felt something paw at his pant leg.

He looked down into the yellow eyes of Grendel, Gisele's cat. It's black mask-like face and bushy grey fur gave it the appeal of a raccoon. It pawed once or twice more, and then walked towards the portrait, and then out into the hall.

"I'll see you around Russ." Nim got up. Something told him, deep down, that this cat knew something.

He ran out of the tower, and down the stairs. Most people were still at the feast, so the halls were empty. It wasn't hard to follow the cat. It went up, then down, around corridors, and finally, down a dark stairwell.

"Where are you going?" He called after the cat. Then he shut up. At the base of the stairs, dimly lit, he saw Gisele laying face down on the ground. His blood stopped cold. He felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck.

He took a step forward and froze. A hand had reached out of the darkness behind Gisele's body. It was ghostly white. It crept forward, attached to something just out of sight. As it gripped the back of Gisele's robes, a face came out of the darkness. Equally white, it looked ghastly. Like someone who hadn't slept in days. Wrinkles, wiry hair, veiny, and deep bags below it's eyes.

Despite all of this, Nim could tell who it was. He reached for his wand.

"I wondered when I'd see you."

"Rathley." Nim grit his teeth. "What are you-"

"Too slow." The figure laughed and pulled Gisele out of sight into the darkness.

Nim's heart sank, unfrozen. He dashed forward, shouting _Lumos_ as he went. Thanks to the ever pale skin, Lumos reflected off of it like a mirror. Nim was able to see where Rathley was dragging Gisele, but his brother was moving at an unreal pace.

After a couple corners, Nim lost him. He approached a nearby wall and started looking around with his wand. After a few minutes of searching, he realized he'd hit a dead end. He swore, realizing he must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.

"Boo."

Nim spun around, just in time to see Rathley grab his wrist, his wand fell out of his hand. Nim struggled, trying to punch, kick, and otherwise thrash about. But nothing worked. The grip was cold, firm, and inhuman.

Something felt off.

"Been awhile huh?" Rathley stared deem into Nim's eyes. His hallowed features made him look like some sort of bizarre zombie, but Nim couldn't tell.

"Yeah, we should probably stop meeting like this." One of Nim's kicks finally connected with Rathley's legs, and it struck…something hard, stiff, hollow. "What's wrong with you?" Nim asked.

"Good question. Guess you'll never know." His cold, stiff fingers pinched around Nim's neck. Nim started to choke.

Then a blast of red light lit up the room, striking Rathley on the back. Nim dropped to the ground. He immediately sought out his wand and grabbed it, waving it to Rathley. But he was gone.

"What…the actual bloody god damn holy mother of hell was that?" Bill asked. He stood in the entrance way to the dead end.

"I'm not…entirely sure…" Nim said. He stood up, rubbed his arm, and walked over to Bill. Part of him couldn't bring himself to admit exactly what he'd seen. Partially in shock, partially in denial, he chose to wait until they were out of this dungeon before he tried to make sense of what he'd seen. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Help me out, I found Gisele knocked out a couple rooms over. Girl's too large for me to pick her up."

"How'd you find me anyways?" Nim asked as the pair left.

"I heard the scuffle."

"No I mean…" Nim stopped. "How did you know we were down here?"

"Oh, well…I saw the cat." Bill said. "It's Gisele's. It ran down here and I followed it."

"Right." Nim said. He followed Bill. In the dark, the other boy couldn't see him, but Nim's nose had wrinkled. There was one glaring issue with this, but something, that…in the middle of a dark dungeon below the school, he wanted to keep in the back of his mind as to not raise suspicion. Something…he was relatively sure Bill shouldn't have known based on how little he and Gisele had talked.

There was little to no chance that Bill knew Gisele had a cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting to post this chapter for awhile, but had to figure out exactly how it'd play out. Originally I didn't have Rathley in mind to appear till much later on, but it worked out really well for what I'm planning. Thank you to all of my readers, and I hope you have a fabulous week!


	15. Quidditch, Astronomy, & Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quidditch season has begun. Nim starts to feel the pressures of coursework.

Gisele suffered only a minor bruise on her temple from where Rathley had hit her. Halfway up the stairs, she regained consciousness and walked herself to bed. Bill thought she ought to see Madame Thomasson, but she refused. Nim followed, waving to Bill as he left. Part of him wanted to ask the Slytherin how he knew Gisele had a cat, but the other part of him didn't. Bill had many opportunities to harm them, so whatever reason he had for lying, wasn't bad.

That's what Nim had to tell himself for now.

Gisele, though a little groggy, made it to the tower. Boys weren't allowed to go to the Girls side of the dormitories, so Nim had to settle with watching her stagger up to her room to make sure she was okay.

Quidditch practice started the following evening after classes. None of the members of the team, with the exception of the captain, were above 5th year. Moira Almara was a brown haired, freckled 5th year Ravenclaw snob. She'd barely look at the rest of them and whenever they tried to interact with her, she'd say things like, "Just stay out of my way" or "Do you want me to hit you in the face with a Bludger?" She always had this air of arrogance, which Nim did his best not to breathe in.

"Heads up!"

Nim just swooped out of the way of an incoming Bludger.

"Sorry mate." The voice came next to him and flashed a grin. Cameron Coddles was a 3rd year Hufflepuff. He flew down on his bright yellow broom that he decorated himself. His wavy, sandy brown hair and million galleon grin gave him a very handsome visage.

Nim gave him a thumbs up and continued swooping around. He was trying to find Gisele. In this particular skirmish, it was Nim, Cameron, and Gisele vs Moira, Ward, and the final member of the team, Sineus Knott.

Sineus was the most quiet of the crew. He didn't say much unless he had to. He was better with hand motions and eye contact…which made passing to him a little difficult at times. The one good thing about his quiet demeanor, is that he could slip past people without them noticing. In that regard he had his usefulness on the team. His shaggy, wiry black hair dangled as he flew. Nim wondered how he saw anything.

The only member not present during the skirmish was Bill…who had a different role than the rest of the team. As Seeker, his job was to locate the snitch. Ward had him set up so that all he had to do was avoid the occasional Bludger while looking for the Snitch.

The action, however, was in the field.

"Watch it!" Gisele yelled.

Nim dove and narrowly avoided being slammed into the side by a Bludger. He had the Quaffle and was currently public enemy number one for Moira. Her aim was shockingly accurate.

"Thanks." He replied, swooping low to avoid the next shot which he knew would be coming.

"Nim!"

He glanced over to see Cameron yell and point at something. Then the wind was knocked out of him as something came hurdling full speed. He fell back off his broom, and felt the Quaffle slip from his grasp.

"Oy!" Gresham swooped in and scooped it up. "Thanks for the freebie." He winked. With a kick he was off.

Nim shook his head and grabbed his broom. Before he kicked off, he noticed Sineus holding his head and muttering something under his breath. His hand moved and Nim noticed a bump, most likely from where they'd collided.

With a kick, Nim flew up. He bolted in the direction Ward had gone.

But it was too late.

Ward triumphantly sat upon his broom and grinned as he easily tossed the Quaffle in. Nim tried to figure out how he'd gotten past Gisele and Cameron, but watching a Bludger zoom straight over Gisele's head, hit by Moira, and seeing Cameron trying to make a dash, but missing as Ward easily outmaneuvered him, he knew. There was a distinct imbalance in the skill level of the teams.

Nim zoomed forward, snatching the Quaffle in his right hand and sped off.

He felt the wind whip his face.

His instincts helped navigate the silent attacks from both Sineus and Gresham, narrowly avoid a Bludger and with every ounce of strength he could muster, he threw the Quaffle to Gisele as hard as he could. With the unspoken bond the pair shared, she caught it as if she'd always known he would do that. She managed to take her shot and triumphantly cheered as it went in.

The back and forth between the two different sides went on for awhile until, beaten and exhausted, they all settled down in the middle of the field.

"Amazing. You all just keep getting up. This is the team I wanted." Gresham grinned. They all panted and gave their own responses ranging from thumbs up to grunting.

"Got it."

They all looked up to see Bill holding the snitch.

"Took you long enough." Moira scoffed.

"If you'd like to catch it any faster-" Bill said. A scowl formed.

"Hey hey, none of that." Gresham put up his hand. "If I want civil war on this team, I promise I will ask for it. Okay?"

Moira and Bill both folded their arms and turned from each other.

"I think it's a good time to call it a day. Keep working on flying and speed. I want to go over formations next time." Gresham dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

Sore, Nim trudged back to the locker room and changed back into his robes.

"My god I didn't know I could get so tired." He leaned against the locker and looked up to the ceiling in exasperation.

Gisele chuckled, though, there was some strain. Nim guessed she was just as tired. "Yeah, when you first start out, Quidditch can be a bit of a challenge. Mentally and Physically…" She rubbed her right arm. During a moment of carelessness, she'd missed Moira's deadly aim for half a second. It showed. "I bet some rest will help though." She smiled.

It did.

Though it also brought upon the next day.

As Nim sat through Astronomy, he got back the recent essay he'd turned in. It was less than satisfactory.

Way less.

Nim groaned. His grades improved after Bill's lessons with him in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, but everywhere else he was slipping. It was just becoming too much, keeping up with his friends, doing Quidditch, having to catch up from his injuries at the beginning of the year. He had no idea how he would survive yet another set back.

"Something wrong?" Cyril asked. The two frequently shared a table in Astronomy.

"Just the usual." Nim sighed. He handed Cyril his paper.

"Oh dear." Cyril said. It probably hadn't been meant as an insult, but to Nim it was another nail in the coffin.

"Thanks." Nim rolled his eyes.

"I didn't mean…o-oh Nim I'm sorry…" Cyril stammered. He had a bit of a stutter when he was nervous or embarassed.

"It's alright…I just have to figure this stuff out." He said. Class had just ended after he'd once again failed to see the correct movement of the moons of Jupiter, or to even name all of the major ones. To most it would probably be easy, but for Nim, it just didn't click.

"Do you want help?" Cyril asked. "I think this is my most interesting subject. I'd love the chance to study it more." The pair of them stood up and began heading to their next classes.

"I don't really see how I could afford not to." Nim said. He made the effort to get over his misgivings about accepting help and tried to let his friends in. He'd even agreed to ask Rowena for help with History, but partially regretted that as she was way too into History and it felt like he was talking to an actual Historian.

"Great let's-" Cyril started, but this his eyes widened as they rounded a corner.

Two Ravenclaw bullies stood between them and the next corridor. Nim knew they'd been giving Cyril trouble, but hadn't really gotten to know them. One was a giant brown haired fellow and the other was a black haired lanky guy who had an odd face, mostly due to a large burn on his chin. They immediately turned to face the pair.

"Why look Sorbo, it's two-thirds of Nimbicyl." The brown haired one grinned with wicked intent.

"You're right Moreau." The other said. He let out a cackle that sent a chill down Nim's spine. "And they are quite alone if I'm not mistaken."

Nim knew he'd already gotten in trouble for his use of magic in the halls. His detention was coming up and he was to help with lakeside clean up with Hagrid. He looked around for help, but there was none to be had.

"I think we should just pass each other and not cause any trouble. Sound good?" Nim felt stupid suggesting it, but hoped maybe he'd catch them off guard.

He didn't.

They both roared with raucous laughter.

"So cheeky, this one." Sorbo said and took a step forward. "I think I'll enjoy beating him up first."

"Beating someone up?"

All four boys turned around. Professor Coremund stood there. He had a very eerie grin.

"N-no sir that's not what we were…" Moreau tried to think of some excuse, but failed to come up with one.

"You know I could punish you for even suggesting violence right?" Coremund walked up to them, grabbing them both by the ears. "Luckily, you've caught me on a busy day. Unluckily, I will punish you in the only way that seems to get through the pair of you. 30 points each from Ravenclaw. The next time, I won't be so kind."

Both of their faces seemed to droop. Apparently, losing house points was similar to getting low scores on Astronomy assignments.

"I suggest you two boys go on." Coremund let go of their ears. They rubbed them and scampered off. "As for you two…" He turned to Nim and Cyril. "Have a pleasant day." He tipped his hat to them and carried on, as if nothing had happened.

"What was that?" Nim asked.

"Can we just…keep going?" Cyril shook as he held his textbooks.

"Yeah, alright."

Studying with Cyril went about as expected. Nim tried in all earnest to pay attention to everything Cyril went over, but some information, like about Mars and Olympus Mons, while other information just didn't sink in at all. They went on for a couple weeks and though his grades did improve somewhat, he became worried he was going to be a Hogwarts flunk-out.

It was a few weeks before Winter Break before Nim finally had some success. Professor Coremund had taken notice in Potions that Nim had been putting hard work into studying. Mostly due to Rowena and Gisele's persistence that he start learning potions before lessons, he'd found that he was getting better at discerning the ingredients that made potions "tick." Coremund was especially impressed with his Forgetfulness Potion, calling it the best in the class…which caused Rowena to shoot him a dirty look, and Gisele to snicker in reaction to Rowena.

He also was given good feedback by Professor Longbottom for his care of Puffapod's, which most people couldn't handle without accidentally causing them to bloom. However Nim was clever in how he approached them, using practical application of _Wingardium Leviosa_ and a couple other minor Charms he'd picked up from Bill to safely transport them. In each case, he'd been awarded 10 points for Gryffindor, which helped soften the loss of points from a few weeks prior.

His success almost overshadowed his detention, but he could not escape it, no matter how much he improved.

\-------

"So, here for detention, eh?" Torrus Hagrid stood, wearing a huge coat, as snow had begun to fall. Nim shivered as he wore the coat he'd borrowed from Gisele that blanketed his scrawny form.

"Y-yeah…what are we doing, exactly?" Nim wanted to get this over with. He had to endure two days of this and was not looking forward to the chill getting worse with nightfall.

"Simple, the giant squid in the lake has been…well sick for lack of a better word. He's shot ink all over the grounds around the lake. I anticipate between the two of us we can fill this cart and have it shipped off to various potion companies and earn the school a little income, while cleaning up something potentially dangerous to the smaller wildlife that frequent the lake." He handed Nim a shovel.

Nim wrinkled his nose. Cleaning wasn't his favorite task in the world, but as far as punishments go, this one wasn't awful. Walking through the inch high snow in his ratty sneakers proved to be the worst of it. He figured the next time he was in Diagon Alley he'd put more of his grandfather's money to use buying proper Winter clothing.

The ink wasn't hard to shovel up, a little goopey, but the worst part was the smell. It had a very "rubber glue" sort of a sting to his nose. He found himself holding his breath while scooping on a number of occasions.

The lights from the castle made the thin layer of snow on the ground glow white. It radiated off of the lake water, giving it a bit of a shimmer. The only place where the glow didn't touch were the areas covered in ink, making the job a little easier.

After a couple hours of scooping, and just when Nim was starting not to be able to feel his toes, Hagrid called it for the night. They'd gotten about a third of the ink cleaned up.

"I'd like to get an earlier start tomorrow, that a problem for you?" Hagrid asked.

Nim blinked. He was in detention. Why was he being asked if it would be a problem? He shrugged and nodded.

"Great, go get warm. If you ask kindly, I'm sure the elves will share a bit of hot cocoa with you." He winked and walked off. It was the first time Nim saw the man smile. When he wasn't being anti-social and grim, Hagrid showed a warm, kind spirit.

Nim took Hagrid's advice and asked a house elf for some Hot Cocoa. She made it for him with a chipper attitude. He sipped on it, while shivering in front of the fire place in the Gryffindor Common Room with a blanket. Miranda had rubbed up against his legs until he gave her some minor petting. When he stopped, she shot him a glare, huffed, and moved on, clearly feeling neglected. Nim was too cold to care.

The next night was just as bad. They started earlier, more time to get cold, more time to scoop up putrid ink, and more time to wish it was over. As Hagrid predicted, they had enough time to scoop up all of the ink before it got as late as it did the night before.

"Good work, let me go make sure to fasten the gate, I'd hate all of the work we did to go to waste. You'll be alright for a moment?" Hagrid asked. Nim's teeth chattered and he thrust his hands into his armpits desperately trying to warm them up. He forced a nod of acknowledgement.

While Hagrid finished ensuring the latches and ropes were fastened. Nim took a moment to take in the sights. The castle was radiant even in snow. It's splendor and grandeur stood out in the glow of the lights, the moon, and the pale reflection from the snow. It almost had a pink hue in the lighting.

Nim's gaze fell to the forest to his left. It was the most dark and ominous part of Hogwarts. He suspected it was also where Rathley was hiding. Somewhere…just beyond his reach.

Lurking.

Waiting.

And then Nim felt a frigid, wet hand grab his arm.

With a loud splash and no time to scream for help, he was dragged backwards into the sharp, painful cold of the lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I'm sorry this update has taken me so long to get up. I was sick with pneumonia and semi-delirious for the past week. Thank you to all of my patient readers. It's really been a blessing despite all of the illness to know people still want me to write this. In addition, I want to apologize. I've been calling Astronomy class Astrology for at least four previous chapters. I've fixed it, but I feel silly for such a mistake. To clear the record up, Professor Rosma is the Professor of ASTRONOMY not Astrology. I am aware Astrology is just one of the parts of Divination...I've just been using the wrong word. My bad, it's all good and cleared up now hopefully :) Love all of my readers.


	16. Snakes and Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the lake incident.

Chapter 15: Snakes and Lions

Nim struggled against his captor.

Tentacles whipped his face and for a moment, he was certain the giant squid had grabbed him.

But squid's didn't have arms or hands.

He felt oxygen leave his lungs and become replaced by a burning sensation.

With every ounce of energy he could muster, he reached and took out his wand. He pointed it at one of the tentacles and a jet of green energy emitted. There was a horrid hissing sound and he felt the grip loosen. He struggled free and swam to the surface, gasping for air.

Then the grip tightened.

He was ready this time.

Nim spun around and faced his attacker. With a quick flick of his wrist, green jets spewed out of his wand and blasted the odd alien-esque face. The _Verdimillious Charm_ was one of the easiest spells to master and use without mentioning the incantation. In this moment, under the freezing water against the tentacled alien green armed freak, Nim was undeniably grateful to Professor Lupin for his lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The blast missed the creature, but it was startled and swam away.

A strong pair of arms scooped around his waist and pulled him up. He felt the rush of the cold air shoot into him like a thousand needles.

"Come on, before it returns."

Nim's teeth chattered. Hagrid, whose gigantic form could have easily passed for a large bear, carried him as if he were a blanket. The pair waded out of the water and walked to the cart. Nim started shivering uncontrollably.

"We have to get you inside." Hagrid carried Nim. His hands began to shake. Hagrid had jumped into the lake to pull him out. He had to be freezing too.

Nim wrapped his arms together, trying to feel some ounce of warmth. The castle seemed miles away. Hagrid trudged in the snow, each step making a louder crunching sound than the last.

Just as Nim thought he would pass out, the door to the Great Hall swung open.

"What in Merlin's Beard…get inside!"

Nim recognized the squeaky voice of Professor Simone, the Charms teacher. She ushered Hagrid and Nim inside, slamming the door behind them.

"What happened?"

"Grindylow attack in the lake…" Hagrid said, sitting down and rubbing his legs.

"Alright, alright just sit still." She held out her wand and waved it in a particular motion that seemed complex. A jet of hot air emitted from the wand and began to dry out Nim's clothes. Warm feeling returned to his senses and he coughed, trying to resist the urge to shiver. Soon the cold feeling had left and a warm blanket was wrapped around him. He looked over to see Madame Thomasson and Professor Simone applying the same technique to Hagrid.

"You two are very lucky we happened to see you from the hospital wing. You could have lost a limb or something." Madame Thomasson said.

"It wasn't my fault the Grind…leo or whatever attacked me." Nim said. A warm cup of cocoa appeared next to him.

"In all my time at Hogwarts," Professor Simone folded her arms after making the hot cocoa appear. "I can't think of another incident where a Grindylow intentionally attacked a student that didn't provoke it…I mean I know it happens outside of Hogwarts, but the merfolk have them somewhat trained here. At least, I thought so…" Her voice trailed off as her gaze wandered to the nearby window. Her auburn, flowing hair glistened in the glow of the moonlight.

"I was a bit in shock myself." Hagrid took a sip of cocoa. "I hesitated for just a fraction too long. I didn't know if it was the squid still sick and deliriously tying to get food, or what…I'm sorry Nim. I-"

"It's alright." Nim said. He was okay and that was what mattered. In all honesty, if he didn't know how to defend himself from Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he doubted anyone could have saved him. "Thanks Hagrid." He said.

"Don't mention it." He beamed. Then his expression became more serious. "You seem to be the target of a number of strange things lately. Odd, isn't it?"

"Odd doesn't begin to describe it." Nim said. A hint of bitterness tinged his voice. After a couple of awkward silence, and slurpy sips of cocoa, Nim stood up. "Am I free to go? I was in the middle of detention…"

"I think you've served your detention adequately. I can get the cart by myself." Hagrid waved him. Madame Thomasson looked like she was about to protest, but Professor Simone shook her head.

Nim waved to the elders and turned around to go back to Gryffindor Tower. He'd had enough fun for one night.

He hadn't even taken two steps when a lack of weight made him feel his left pocket.

The orb that Starm the elf had given him was gone.

He swore, but wondered what good the orb was even doing him anyways. There was no way he was going back into the lake to see if it had fallen out during the struggle. At least, not tonight.

\------

Somehow, _The Black Cat_ heard about the entire incident. Nim had once again graced the front page. Someone had gotten a rather unflattering picture of him coming up for air in the midst of his battle with the Grindylow. Though there was motion, the picture basically captured him making a face with crazy eyes and a contorted mouth. It just played over and over, him coming up for breath and making that crazy face, then going back and doing it all over again.

"I'm starting to wonder who the people are working for this." Bill set down the paper. Nim had chosen to sit with the Slytherin table today for breakfast, which had garnered a number of hateful looks from the table clad in Red and Gold.

"I'm more concerned with how they got this shot…" Nim took a bite of scrambled eggs. "I mean, I was there…half drowning, half freezing…and whoever he or she was…just stood there and took this." Nim rubbed his arms on his shoulders, feeling colder than in the lake.

"I'll have a word or two with this person if we ever meet them." Bill crossed his legs and took a sip of black tea.

"Why is this Gryffindor sitting here?"

Nim and Bill looked over to see a very disgusted Zarlot sneering at them. Stu and Rolf were on either side, mimicking her.

"I invited him." Bill folded his arms after setting his tea cup down.

"Un-invite him." Zarlot raised an eyebrow. "None of us want a stinking lion at this table." She waved a hand back and forth for dramatic effect. The others snickered.

"Not true."

Bill and Nim looked over at Sineus Knott from the Inter-House team. Neither one could recall him ever talking before. The entire half of the Slytherin table they sat on stopped for a moment. They all turned to look at the previously silent boy.

"He can sit here. He's my friend, lion or not." Sineus pushed his shaggy black hair back. "If you want to be a git, do it somewhere else. This is not the Slytherin Common room. Anyone is welcome here."

Several of the Slytherins snickered at Zarlot. For once, she looked at a loss for words. No one backed her up. She scowled, stood up, and walked to the other side of the table.

"Thanks." Nim said to Sineus. The boy just smiled and went back to not talking.

"So do you think the attack was just coincidence?" Bill asked once things had quieted down.

"Is anything coincidence around here?" Nim rolled his eyes. "I'm sure Rathley had something to do with it…or maybe those Ravenclaw bullies."

"Or, maybe _The Black Cat._ " Bill shrugged.

Nim hadn't considered that possibility. If they were capable of taking a picture of a dying boy struggling against a lake monster, what else were they capable of?

Sensing the tense topic, Bill asked a question to shift the conversation."So what are your plans for the Winter Break?"

Nim had almost forgot that it was time for the Winter Break. With all of the buzz of classes, Quidditch, and the Grindylow attack, he didn't give much thought to a lot else.

"Probably just stay here. I'm sure my Grandfather wouldn't care." Nim shrugged.

"I see." Bill said.

"And you?" Nim asked.

"Well, mom expects me home for the break." Bill picked up the paper again and kept reading. "It's been difficult, with it just being the two of us lately. She probably needs help."

"What about your dad?" Nim asked.

Bill's arms and face tensed up. His jaw clenched.

"My father's gone."

"I'm sorry." Nim attempted to show sympathy, though he could tell there was some animosity to Bill's voice.

Bill shook his head. "It's no big deal. In any case, all this Winter Break talk reminds me I need to pack after classes." He set the paper down.

Nim was about to respond, but the paper had an article, albeit much smaller than the one about him. The article caught his attention.

"Hogwarts Champion in first place after conclusion of first trial."

Nim picked up the paper and continued reading.

"Eldora Olivander, the chosen Champion for Hogwarts in this year's Triwizard Tournament, dazzled the crowd after her first round performance. In a cunning display of both beauty and brains, she used a combination of spells to outmaneuver her trial's main obstacle, a full sized giant, and did it with a series of flashy explosions. She received high marks for her performance. Olivander appears to be the one to watch for. Currently, in 2nd place is the Durmstraung Champion Emilio Malfoy, who is the grandson of the current headmaster, and in 3rd place is the Beauxbatons Champion Avery De La Guerre. All three had marvelous performances and we eagerly await their second task."

Nim couldn't help but crack a grin when he saw that Eldora had taken a risk. It was paying off. It gave him a sense of empowerment. If she could face her fears head on, what was a stupid lake monster and abnormally strong re-animated brother corpse in comparison? He put down the paper.

"Hello?" Bill waved.

"Huh?"

"I've been calling to you for a couple minutes. Must be a good story to get so engrossed." He said.

"It's just about the Triwizard Tournament." Nim said. "I just saw that our Champion is in 1st currently."

"That right?" Bill took the paper and gave an impressed nod. "Not bad. I'm sure people will be talking about this for awhile."

Nim agreed. It was nice to have something other than Rathley to talk about. No one else had actually seen Rathley other than Nim and part of him wondered if he was going crazy. Technically, Bill had seen his backside, but hadn't seen his face. No one could back up his claims. He'd tried talking to Professor Longbottom about this. Though the Professor had pretended to be sympathetic and understanding, Nim detected a hint of disbelief.

And how could Nim blame him. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wondered if he'd believe himself.

The incident with the Grindylow was investigated. Apparently, the merfolk had been missing one for a couple of weeks. It took a lot of negotiating and talking, but Professor Coremund had been given the stray Grindylow and had it put down for attacking a student.

The next couple of weeks flew by. Finally, the day came. Classes wrapped up, and those who had somewhere to go for Winter Break packed up.

Gisele was the first of the crew to go. She hopped on the first train, waving and hugging everyone before she left. Even Rowena, which shocked everyone.

Bill was next. He needed time to collect everything. He barely said anything to the others when he left. A quick wave, and handshakes with everyone except for Nim.

Finally, Rowena. She had on a white, wool coat with fur mittens and a gorgeous fuzzy brown hat. She gave Cyril a hug first, and Nim second.

"Oh Nim." She said after she broke away. "I tried telling you awhile back about something I found. I figured…since you and Cyril are spending the break here, maybe you both can look into it. I've tried, but no luck so far."

"Yeah?" Nim asked.

"Well, I've found a rumor of sorts that talks about the Deathly Hallows. There's a wand, a cloak, and a stone. The wand, I think, was destroyed a number of years back, if the rumor is to be believed. The other two though, no one knows. In any case, the stone was known as 'The Stone of Resurrection.' Supposedly, it can keep it's bearer alive despite any death they may face. However, I can't find anything else about this stone."

"But you've been looking for months." Nim said. "What could I find that you couldn't? You've got to have searched every book in the library."

"Not…all of them." Rowena said. "There's a set of books that are locked away."

"You mean the restricted section?" Nim asked. It was an infamous section of the library were books full of dark secrets were only available upon permission from a Professors note.

"No, I've already been there." Rowena paused. Nim struggled to grasp how she, a 1st year, had actually gotten permission to visit the restricted section of the library, but again asking would just cause a story that wouldn't really matter much. He stayed quiet. She looked around, making sure no one was listening and whispered. "There's a locked section in the basement of the castle. A cabinet of books that aren't even available in the restricted section. Only the Caretaker and Headmaster have keys to it."

"How am I supposed to get them?" Nim asked. His head was spinning. Part of him wanted to know how she figured this out, but in the end, all that mattered was that she did.

"That…" She looked away. "I haven't figured it out. Since both you and Cyril are spending the break here. I figured you could-"

"Got it." Nim knew what she was asking. She'd done the leg work to figure this much out, now it was time for him to contribute. Both him and Cyril.

"Take care, will you? Let me know what you find." She smiled and waved, getting on the train as the whistle blew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again illness delayed the posting of this chapter (apparently April isn't my month, go figure). In addition, I also wrote beyond the end of this chapter. I was at about 4,000 words when I realized there were two chapters in one. In any case, figured I should post the update and let you know I'm still alive and writing :) Thanks again to all my readers. Please keep commenting, reviewing, and most importantly reading. Love all of my readers! Also, RIP to Prince. Definitely played myself some Purple Rain in memory.


	17. The Cabinet in the Basement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim starts to do research on the Resurrection Stone.

Cyril and Nim headed back to the castle, along with the other group of students that had waved friends off.

When asking why Cyril wasn't going to his parents for the break, Nim got a pretty simple explanation.

"They're on a dig in the Middle East. I'd rather not look at dinosaur bones and scoop dirt out for a month."

A few other people had signed to stay over the break including Russ Macmillan, Rolf from Slytherin, and Cameron Coddles from the Quidditch team.

The castle was relatively quiet with the lack of students. There were still the occasional student playing Wizard's Chess, or reading books in the library, or having a snowball fight on the grounds outside the castle, but for the most part, the highest population visible were the moving portraits in the halls.

Nim hadn't really taken the time to look at all of the portraits before. They stood out now though. They were all shapes and sizes, colors and creeds. Nim saw a larger gentleman whose portrait was near the Fat Lady. The two of them had become quite close…visiting each others frames frequently. There were a pair of elderly witches, who could have passed for twins, above the Great Hall that gossiped without pause. There was a lone knight that patrolled an upper corridor called Sir Cadogan. He'd occasionally try to fight students, calling them "knaves" though most just laughed and passed by.

Finally, Nim noticed the lone boy. It was the portrait he'd passed by some months ago. Clad in blue and gray, he held his legs into his chest with his arms. He refused to look up.

"Hello?" Nim asked.

"Go away." The portrait replied.

Nim's gut told him to obey, but something, deep down, stirred inside him, telling him not to go.

"Is everything alright?" Nim approached the painting. "Are you upset?"

"No of course not. Why ever would I be upset?" The boy's tone changed to one of sarcasm. "It's not like I'm stuck here, bound to this god awful painting. Having to look at a lot of wizards and witches get to prance around free as birds all over this horrid castle." He snapped. His face looked up, it was red and puffy, as if he'd been crying for a long time. He had messed up auburn brown hair with a pair of light green eyes.

"I think I kinda get it." Nim said. "I was stuck in a big metal house for awhile. Didn't really get to leave." He leaned against a nearby wall.

"But you get to now." The boy in the portrait responded. "It's unfair really. I did nothing wrong. I don't deserve to be here. So then why is it you get to be out there, and me in here?"

"Were you once real?" Nim blinked. He hadn't even considered the fact that this might be a possibility. He'd always just assumed everyone in portraits were drawn.

"What kind of wizard are you?" The boy asked. "That's like…basic knowledge."

"I see." Nim sighed. "I guess I really am stupid."

"Oh, maybe you're muggle-born? That'd explain it."

"Guess that excuse always works too." Nim said, looking back at the portrait. The boy now sat criss cross.

"Blimey, maybe we do have some things in common."

"What's that mean?" Nim asked.

"I was muggle-born too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't recall much else…" The boy said, his snappy tone faded away.

"Were you a student here?" Nim asked.

"Dunno." The boy shrugged. "The funny thing about portraits are that we are only given certain characteristics, memories, or personalities that we used to have. Everything else gets scrapped."

"That's awful." Nim made a note that if someone ever offered to make him into a portrait for after he died, he'd refuse.

"It is, isn't it?" The boy replied.

"So what do you know, about yourself I mean?" Nim asked, trying to change the topic.

"Let's see…I was muggle-born. I had…a sister…and…ummm I seem to be quite fond of chocolate cauldrons. That's it."

Nim didn't know how to respond. This was the remainder of this boy's life in three, short details. All that was left, other than his physical appearance.

"Oh." The boy said. "I died at Hogwarts. Dunno how though."

Make that four, short details.

"Died at Hogwarts?" Nim repeated.

"Yeah, like I said…the painter didn't bother to etch how it happened into this frame. This stupid, awful frame." He pounded on it, with what looked like his full force, but the frame barely moved as he did.

Nim didn't really know where to go from here. He supposed he could try one of the other topics. "You have a sister?"

"Yeah, a bit younger than me, can't recall how much younger." This seemed to calm the portrait down a bit. "I think she was a Slytherin…dunno why that sounds familiar though."

"Do you have a name? I mean I'm sure people must call you something."

"Ah, yeah." The boy's face turned back into a scowl. "They call me Sad Sam. What a great name to be given."

"Can I call you Sam then?" Nim asked.

"If you must, I request you leave off the 'Sad' bit though." The boy shifted.

"No problem. How long have you been here?"

"Probably a couple decades or so, couldn't tell you exactly." Sam replied. "I was moved here from my families' house. At least…that's what I've been told. I had a stupid cloth over me the whole time, so I really didn't know who owned me."

"Why would your family let you come here?" Nim wondered aloud, rhetorically.

"Probably died, who knows."

Nim hadn't been looking for a response, but it was an intriguing notion.

"Anyways, I'm sure you have better things to do then talk to a portrait. Go on, prance along, be free." He waved, dismissing Nim.

"But-"

"Off with you!" The portrait snapped. Nim wanted to say something, but Sam turned away, refusing to look or acknowledge him any further.

Nim walked off, perplexed by the interaction. The whole thing seemed peculiar.

Then realized just how unaccompanied he was in this moment.

None of his friends or professors were around.

The corridor was empty and quiet.

He felt a chill crawl up his spine.

He was alone.

So very alone.

Then a snapping noise brought him out of his trance.

He turned around.

"There you are."

Nim took a deep sigh of relief.

It was just Cyril.

"You scared me." Nim let out a nervous chuckle. He rubbed his arms to warm them up.

"Sorry, definitely wasn't intended. So, got any plans for the next couple weeks?" Cyril asked. He had a grin on his face.

"Yeah, actually I do." Nim said. "Rowena-" He paused, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "Rowena said," he continued in a hushed tone, "that she thinks information about some sort of resurrection stone might be in the basement."

"A resurrection stone?" Cyril asked. Nim hushed him.

"Yes, she thinks it may be something related to Rathley." Nim said.

Cyril paused a moment and looked deep in thought. "She wouldn't be…referring to the Deathly Hallows would she?"

"Yes actually," Nim raised an eyebrow. "Do you know something about it?"

"Well, I just know about The Tales of Beedle the Bard, the collection of kids stories." Cyril said. "One of the stories is called 'The Tale of the Three Brothers.' It's about these brothers who use magic to build a bridge. Death think he's been cheated since most people drown. Each brother is then given an item by Death. A powerful wand, a cloak to hide from death, and a stone of resurrection. Two of the brothers die, due to murder and suicide, but the brother who took the cloak lived until he was ready for death."

"Fascinating. So what happened to these items?" Nim asked.

"According to the story, the cloak was given to the third brother's son and passed down through generations through the family. The wand was found and destroyed a number of years back by our Headmaster. But no one knows what happened to the stone. For a short period, Albus Dumbledore, another Headmaster, claims to have had it in his possession, or at least his portrait says he did, but after that, it was lost and no one has seen it since."

"So if it's lost, I wonder what Rowena expects to find in the cabinet." Nim rubbed his chin.

"No clue…but she probably had a good reason, albeit long winded."

"You can say that again." Nim stifled a laugh. "I think she mentioned a book or something."

"There's about as much mystery to the cabinet as there is to the stone itself." Cyril said. "Unfortunately, that's about as much as I know." He pushed his glasses back. Nim noticed he did this a lot. He wondered if it was to help with thinking, or if maybe they didn't fit him right.

"So what now?" Nim asked.

"You're asking me?" Cyril blinked.

"Yeah." Nim folded his arms. "You seem to know something about this cabinet. Rowena wants us to look there. What do we do?"

"Why would I know?" Cyril asked.

"You are the whiz of Wizard's Chess." Nim grinned. "Rowena says that the only people who have a key are the Headmaster and the Caretaker. So…we only have one option. Who better to figure out how to get this key, than a Chessmaster."

"I see…let me th-think on it." Cyril said. Nim couldn't tell, but his ego boost seemed to have lit a spark in the boy.

It wasn't till a few days later, on Christmas Eve, that Cyril and Nim saw each other again. In fact, he'd been spending more time with Russ, avoiding hugs or handshakes seeing as it just caused a spark that was uncomfortable to both. They had a lot in common, he was into muggle things like robots and artwork, that didn't move. They discussed a lot of this over Wizard's Chess, which Nim was still trying to get the hang of, but couldn't quite pull off a win. It didn't discourage him as improvements were being made.

The Great Hall was decorated appropriately in reds and greens ranging from the draping wreaths, trees with brilliant colors, and the scent of peppermint. Students chattered excitedly. During the holidays, sitting with one's House didn't matter as much. There were only enough students around to fill half a table. Nim didn't recognize or know many of the other students, but he, Russ, and Cyril sat near each other. Cameron sat farther down with a few Hufflepuff 1st and 2nd years. Rolf made a big effort to sit as far from Nim and his friends as possible.

"What do you think they'll serve this year?" Russ asked.

"Well, given that I wasn't here last year, how would I know?" Nim replied.

"Oh, right. I just remember from my sister who stayed over last year that they had large turkeys, and savory sweet potatoes, and a cranberry sauce that would make you cry." Russ' eyes widened.

Nim couldn't reply. His salivating mouth wouldn't allow it.

Just as Russ predicted, the meal was one of the best Nim ever had. Turkey, potatoes, and cranberry sauce were present, along with various chocolates, peppermint fairies, and goblets of hot caramel apple cider. Nim felt the flavors blend together in a mixture that tickled his tastebuds with delight.

"You were saying something about your sister?" Nim asked after slowing down. He was eating too fast and he didn't want to have cramps like he did after Halloween. "She went here?"

"Oh yeah." Russ said. "She just finished her seventh year last year. Got a job right away working for Flourish and Blotts. A real prodigy when it comes to sales and books. Just…pray you don't get her as a saleswoman, she'll find a way to get you to buy more than you can afford." He gulped down a swig of cider.

"Was she in Gryffindor, like you?" Nim asked.

"Nah, she was in Hufflepuff like my grandad." He said. "Actually I'm the first in several generations not to go to Hufflepuff."

"I see." Nim said. "Guessing your family wasn't too thrilled then?" He knew all about being disappointed by House placement.

"Actually no, my grandad was rather thrilled to be honest. Apparently he and the Headmaster go way back and got along real well. 'If you had to be in another house, Gryffindor is the only good choice.'" He imitated what sounded like an old man.

Cyril and Nim chuckled as he spoke. His animation livened the already cheerful room. Nim gathered there wasn't a single frown in the whole hall. Most of the professors had gone home for the break, but Nim saw Coremund, Cera, and Rosma sitting at the front. None of them were interacting and eating in peace, looking as if they were intentionally avoiding each other's gazes. Nim raised an eyebrow, but figured it wasn't his place to inquire about the inner workings of the staff.

The meal soon ended and all the students got up. They were all excited to open presents the next day.

"Coming?" Russ asked as they stood up.

"Yeah, you bet-"

"Nim can I have a word?" Cyril asked.

"What's up?"

"I mean, in private."

"Alright, Russ I-"

"It's fine, it's fine. I'll cya back in the tower." Russ waved and walked off.

"What's going on?" Nim asked once he and Cyril were alone in a nearby corridor.

"I know how we can get the key to the cabinet basement."

"Really?" Nim blinked.

Cyril nodded. "Yeah, but it has to be tonight."

"What, why?" Nim asked. He wasn't ready for this. They'd done no planning and had only whatever plan Cyril had concocted.

"I did some research and found out from a reliable source, that Margot has a thing for fire whiskey and every Christmas Eve, she shuts her office and drinks herself into a stupor. Then she passes out until Christmas."

"How'd you find all of this out?" Unlike with Rowena, Nim didn't feel afraid about some long winded unrelated explanation with Cyril.

"Actually, it wasn't difficult. I asked Nearly Headless Nick what he knew about Margot. Then I just…steered the conversation in a way that got him to tell me what I wanted to know." He shrugged.

"You're…kinda a scary guy." Nim laughed. "Wouldn't want to fall into in your web of discussion."

"Who's to say you haven't already done so?" Cyril winked and walked off.

Nim pondered this for a moment, shrugged, and followed.

The two boys approached the Caretaker's door and waited outside. There were wails and rants and discussions to no one in particular. Of interest, there was only something about her "Lazy, good for nothing Aunt Ruth" who apparently had caused her much grief as a child. After an hour or so of wailing, they stopped, soon replaced with loud, buzzsaw snoring.

"What if the door is locked?" Nim asked.

"Let's find out." Cyril twisted the knob. It jiggled, but didn't open. He held out his wand and tapped the lock. He muttered, _"Alohomora."_

With a click, Cyril slid the door open slowly. They peered inside and crept into the darkened room. As predicted, Margot was slumped over her desk, a cup of what smelled like strong cinnamon dripped onto the desk.

Cyril motioned for Nim to hang back and kept going forward. He reached the desk and began searching.

Nim held his breath, worried that someone would find them. He felt sweat prickle his brow. His hands started to shake slightly in anticipation. Adrenaline pumped through him with wild fervor.

Then Cyril stood up. He carefully lifted a key ring and slid it into his pocket. It lightly jingled a bit when he settled it, but Margot didn't stir. He tip toed back over and the pair of them left, making sure to lock the door.

"You sure these are the right keys?" Nim asked.

"It was in a drawer labeled 'master' I didn't see any others…" Cyril shrugged.

"We're taking a huge gamble."

"Let's see if it pays off then, before she wakes up." Cyril grinned and headed for what Nim presumed to be the basement. He stifled a laugh and wondered when stuttering Cyril had gotten so confident.

The pair of them descended the nearby stairs, taking caution not to make any noise, and reached the basement.

"Where is this cabinet?" Nim asked in a tone just above a whisper.

"I did some research on that too. It seems to be…" He pulled out a map of the basement. "Here." He pointed to a small square room on the west side of the castle.

"That's not too far…we probably shouldn't be down here too long." Nim said. He shuddered as a cold draft ripped through him like a dagger.

"Agreed. Let's go."

The two of them wandered about for a bit until they finally got their bearings. Cyril and Nim both had their _Lumos_ lit wands in front of them, making sure to take care so they didn't get lost. Soon they found the small room and stepped over a stone step, jutting out from the ground, and looked around.

As Cyril had said, the robust, oaken cabinet stood on the far side, next to a dusty looking shelf with an unlit lantern on it.

"Which key is it?" Nim asked. Cyril had given him the ring when they entered the basement. He fumbled around in the dark.

"Dunno, I suppose we just try them all?" He shrugged.

Nim nodded and walked to the cabinet, trying in key after key. The first few were too small, the next few were too large. There was one key that fit, but wouldn't turn, so Nim had to try other ones.

Just as he was about to give up, a small, golden key that had an odd, pointed end, did the trick.

He heard the click and twisted the key.

The cabinet doors flew open. A horrid scream emitted and began to blare, echoing off of the cavernous walls. Nim dropped the keys and shook in terror, turning to Cyril for answers.

Then the sound of footsteps, running their direction hummed underneath the screeching screams.

"RUN!" Cyril shouted.

Nim didn't need to be told twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot Twist! Finally got this chapter up. No illness to blame for how long it took me, just generic life getting in the way. Had most of it written by last Monday. Oh well, better late than never :) I'd say we are somewhere over halfway done with this story...not sure exactly how many chapters are left, but the number is rapidly declining. If I had to guess, it'd probably be something like 10 left or so. I'll let you know when I get down to the final few chapters. Pinky Promise :) It's been surreal to write this and have people give me such positive feedback. Keep it up. I like all positive and constructive comments. Love all my readers :) Until next chapter.


	18. Love Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim and Cyril deal with a screaming closet.

The shriek continued while the boys raced. The shrillness forced Nim to cover his ears. It took them about a minute to find the stairs. Before Nim could dash up, Cyril grabbed his arm and yanked him into the nearby shadow.

Nim opened his mouth to protest, but fell silent as Professor Coremund, Rosma, and Cera all appeared, looking around.

"Go for the cabinet!" Coremund said. The other two nodded and raced down the hallway. He began to scour the area with his wand.

"What now?" Nim whispered to Cyril. He had to lean in really close due to the screams.

"I'm thinking…just…" Cyril bit his thumbnail. Unlike the cool, confident Cyril he'd been talking to before this began, he was faced with the timid Cyril he was used to.

Nim tried to think of something.

But it was no use.

Coremund began to sweep in their direction. In just moments, they'd be discovered.

Nim, out of options, held up his hand.

Then the world stopped.

"What the-" Cyril said. The two young wizards were just inches away from the glow of Professor Coremund's wand.

Frozen in place, it hovered, looking like a firefly hovering in front of them.

"Can't have the hero expelled now can we?"

Both boys turned. Nim already knew, but had to confirm.

The flamboyant, sashaying elf with his purple cape and beady, sharp yellow eyes appeared from the shadows.

"Nim?" Cyril turned to his friend. "Who is this?"

"It's Starm." Nim said.

"That doesn't really answer my question-"

"If you'd like to sit there debating who I am while your timer ticks, be my guest. I'm merely offering you two boys the opportunity to leave. It won't last much longer though."

"This is really advanced magic…even for an elf." Cyril's brow furrowed. "Just what is this spell anyways?"

"Would you care to keep asking me questions or would you care not to be expelled?" Starm folded his arms, leaning against the nearby wall.

"I think we should go." Nim said, grabbing Cyril's robes.

"Fine. But this isn't over." Cyril replied.

"I like you. Full of fire." Starm let out a high pitched giggle. It unnerved Nim. "Now go-oh wait Nim." He pulled something spherical and blue.

"Where'd you-"

"Went swimming. Take it and go quick. I can't hold it much longer."

Nim raced up, grabbed the orb, thanked the elf with his eyes, and the pair of them raced upstairs. No sooner had they entered the Great Hall, they heard a voice below from Professor Coremund.

"What do you mean you can't find anyone? Why would it open without someone being there?"

"Let's go." Nim whispered. The two boys raced to their individual towers, waving as they ran.

For the remainder of the break, neither one attempted to go for the closet. With an increase in watches by the Professors who remained, Nim and Cyril agreed it would be best not to tamper with the cabinet until the others returned.

Nim received several presents, Gisele had gotten him a case of chocolate frogs, Cyril a beginner's guide to Wizard's Chess, and Rowena a very peculiar set of decorated chopsticks. He didn't notice anything from Bill. Though a little disheartened, it felt like Bill, it was just too…sappy or whatever word he'd use. Some form of that made him smile.

Soon, with a shrill train whistle, the break ended. Students cheerfully bounded off the train and back.

"Heya Nim!" Gisele grinned, taking a step off of the train. She walked over and gave him a big side hug which he returned. "Miss me?"

"Duh." He grinned.

"Don't go getting soft on me or anything."

Gisele and Nim looked over to Bill who stepped off the train. He'd gotten his hair styled, flipped up in the front and swished to the left side. He had his hands in his pockets and wore a green button up jacket with the Slytherin emblem stitched in the side. It matched his green slacks and brown shoes with green inseams. He had a typical "Bill" scowl on his face.

"It's a hug. Not some lover's embrace." Gisele chuckled. "You'll never change."

"Why would I?" Bill asked. He had a blank expression on his face.

"Maybe we'd figure out if there's any part of you that's human."

The three turned their attention to Rowena. She had on a black lipstick and a very punk-ish look. Yet it still looked high class and stylish. Her hair was pasted to the right side of her head in a very beautiful swirling pattern. She'd dyed it black to match her lips. She had a black and white polka dot dress shirt that was tucked very fashionably into a pair of grey khakis. Her high heel shoes were black and pointed. She had her robe on, but didn't have the front part zipped up giving her an even more fashionable look.

"Ha ha, very funny." Bill scowled and left.

"What a sour puss." Rowena wrinkled her nose, but then softened and smiled, hugging Nim. "So good to see you again."

He hugged her back. It was like having a sister, not that he'd ever known what having one was like, but Rowena felt like a sister to him.

"So?" She asked as they headed for the castle. She made sure to bring her tone down to almost a whisper. "Did you find anything, you know, useful?"

"No." Nim said. He felt a tinge of disappointment. "We figured out it was guarded though. There's definitely something in there."

"Guarded?"

"Yeah, it-"

"Afternoon!"

Both of them turned their eyes to a familiar blonde wizard with the newsboy cap. He held out a paper with the familiar "Black Cat" title on it.

"Care for a read? Rumor has it something juicy happened over the break." He winked.

Nim took the paper and waved as he walked off.

As promised, the head title read "Hogwarts Security Breach." Nim knew the story and handed it to Rowena. "Read about it, you'll see…don't worry no one caught us."

"That sucks…I'll try to figure something out." She sighed. "Maybe it's just some sort of dead end anyways. I wasn't really sure what is actually down there…sorry I put you and Cyril in-"

"Don't worry. We are good." Nim said.

It didn't take long for them to get back into the swing of things. Nim put his nose to the grind and using the private lessons from both Cyril and Bill, and the occasional brush up with Rowena, he managed to turn his grades around in the subjects he was struggling in.

With the ups, came the downs.

Where Nim was beginning to see some form of success academically, he struggled on the Quidditch field. His game was off. He normally had good synchronicity with Gisele, but maybe he'd just had beginners luck.

"Watch it!"

Nim barely dodged a hit from Cameron. It allowed him a moment of distraction, where Moira was able to successfully take the Quaffle. It wasn't the first screw up he'd had that day, but it was the most noticeable. He tried to double back and catch her, but his broom jerked to the left unexpectedly and caused him to miss a chance to take it back.

Moira went on to score.

He tried not to let it get to him, but after two more failed attempts to score, he had to admit he needed more practice.

"That's all for today." Ward called. He gave Nim a look. "I recommend more practice on your own. We need all of our team in top shape for our first match against Ravenclaw."

Nim nodded. He didn't know what else to do. Bill performed well. Gisele was flawless. Cameron was good. Heck, even Moira flew circles around him today. He made a mental note to practice more.

The match against Ravenclaw was set for the day after Valentine's day. He asked for Gisele's help and over the next few weeks he flew alongside her, dodging, catching, throwing, and working in harmony. He hoped it would be enough.

Professor Cera was even more nasty than normal after the Cabinet incident. For no reason at all, possibly because of a cough, she docked Cyril points from his house. It was never said aloud, but Nim suspected she knew somehow.

He kept silent. At least until Valentine's Day finally arrived.

The Great Hall filled with laughter and the sweet aroma of chocolate. If not for the copious amounts of red and pink hearts and banners strewn about, Nim would have been likely to forget today was Valentine's day. Knowing that he didn't have any family back home, nor had he made any romantic questions, he fully expected not to receive anything. He knew about romance, he'd seen his fair share of snogging wizards and witches in the corridors, but the idea of kissing or being intimate with anyone grossed him out.

"I hope this snog fest ends soon." Bill echoed his sentiments out loud. He took a swig of pumpkin juice. Neither boy had opted to partake in any of the festivities and sat in a table in the corner along with others who didn't appear to care much.

Nim chuckled and went back to watching. Nim chuckled and went back to watching. Rowena's dress was particularly festive. Red ribbons lined the sides, frilly white lace covered her shoulders, and what appeared to be an artistic pink heart lined the backside. She bounded over, presenting both Nim and Bill with large, unsightly hearts. Her penmanship was the most impressive thing about them.

"Thanks." Bill took it and set it down, not even reading it.

"Oh, don't be like that." She rolled her eyes. "Boys, honestly. It's like I'm telling you I love you or anything. It's just a friendly gesture."

"We could be learning spells right now…or something else useful. This is just a waste." Bill huffed.

"Thanks, Rowena." Nim held his Valentine.

"See Grumpy Gus?" She smiled. "That's how you respond to a gift."

"It's my first Valentine." Nim blinked.

"Come off it, really?" Bill scoffed. "It's just a sappy little love note."

"Awww, it's sweet. I didn't think it was your first though…you didn't do these ever like in school when you were younger?" Rowena asked.

"Not really. At least, not that I remember." Nim shook his head. "Thanks again I-"

Just then an owl swooped down and dropped an envelope into his hands.

He grabbed it, shocked. It only had "Nim" written in cursive on it. There was no return address.

"What is it?" Rowena asked.

Nim tore open the seal and looked inside. There was a pink and red note that read "Happy Valentine's Day" on it. He pulled it out, looked at it, and then flipped it over.

His blood ran cold.

Darkness pounded on the edges of his eyes.

There was no mistaking the one word message.

His body trembled.

"Nimbooger."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed chapter. Life happens when you least expect it. I'm hoping this chapter will jumpstart me to the end. I believe I'm now approaching the 2/3rds mark of the story. Have some HUGE reveals coming in the next couple of chapters. Super excited! Also I got hired for a new job, so that's been very exciting news for me :) Thank you for reading and continuing to support this fic. I'll try to post more regularly as my life takes a very different turn, hopefully for the better. Love my readers!


	19. Unforgivable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim and his friends have a falling out.

"What is it?" Bill asked.

Nim gulped. He tried to say something, but nothing came out. He felt his grip tighten on the note. It crumpled in his palm. He fought a tear stinging his eyes.

No more.

"Just a reminder that we need to hurry up finding that stone thing." Nim took a deep breath and then tossed the note aside.

Bill and Rowena exchanged glances.

"What?" Nim asked.

"Nothing I suppose." Rowena bit her bottom lip.

"You suppose?"

"Alright I guess…" She looked to Bill again who rolled his eyes.

"The stone isn't the answer." Bill said.

Nim blinked. "What?"

"Your brother…or whatever it is…isn't really alive again. That's impossible. The only recorded incident where the stone was said to be used only prevented someone from dying." Bill folded his arms.

"And you found this out when?" Nim asked.

"Over the break, I asked my mum." He said.

For all the love of Valentine's Day, only hateful things sat in Nim's throat at this moment. "And you were going to tell me all of this when?"

"Well," Bill's eyes narrowed. "You didn't exactly spill all the beans about whatever it was that was written on that note."

Nothing else was said. Bill and Nim had their invisible death glare match while Rowena stared at the ground, her face flushed with guilt.

Then the bell rang.

For the remainder of the day Nim couldn't face Bill or Rowena. Apparently, they hadn't shared their little secret with Gisele or Cyril either. For some, unknown reason, they had kept this knowledge to themselves and Nim couldn't fathom why.

Professor Cera's courses were becoming more brutal. During transfiguration, she was starting to have them change pillows into geckos. Not only had their instruction on changing inanimate objects to animate objects been brief, but Nim, along with many of the other Gryffindors, were unable to even change the hue of the pillow. Somehow all Slytherins managed to at least do that much. Nim wondered if they were being given private training somehow from their "unbiased professor," who coincidentally took points from the Gryffindor students for "making fools of themselves."

Frustrated from the events of the day, Nim skipped Herbology. He knew it'd probably come back to bite him at some point, but he didn't care. He needed space. Between his spat with Rowena and Bill and feeling like he was still the biggest failure in the school, he wanted nothing more than to be alone.

In theory, this plan should have worked.

"Hey!"

Nim pretended to ignore.

"HEY! I'm talking to you!"

He turned, unable to ignore his shouting friend.

Gisele strode up to him, her brown pigtails swaying from side to side.

"Didn't you hear me?" She put a hand on her hip.

"No, sorry I'm a bit distracted." It wasn't a complete lie, just not the full truth.

"Want to have one more go before the big match tomorrow?" Gisele seemed to have already forgotten about being semi upset at the lack of response. Her giant grin at the mention of the match dissolved any tension.

"Not tonight. I'm either ready or I'm not at this point. One last 'go' might just push me over the edge." Nim faked a yawn, hoping it would end the conversation.

Gisele nodded. "You look tired. Want me to walk you to the tower or anything? You know, headmaster's rules and all."

Nim couldn't think of a good excuse out of this one and reluctantly nodded. She smiled and walked next to him, the scent of strawberry smelling perfume becoming apparent the closer she got.

"You nervous about tomorrow?" She asked as their feet clacked against the stone walkways.

"Sure." He said, giving a shrug.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"It's nothing…" He lied. _Why am I lying to her?_

"Oh please," She rolled her eyes. "You don't honestly believe I'm going to accept that for a response, right?"

"I'm just back at square one with figuring out the whole…brother coming back from the dead thing." He looked up, noticing the portraits which were all eyeballing him now.

"I see. Yeah that's pretty frustrating. The stone was a bust then?" Gisele asked.

"Yeah, Bill and Rowena figured it out…so all the work I did over the break did no good. Just…almost got me and Cyril in trouble." He sighed. He was back to square one. A stupid lame wizard who was useless. Being alone needed to happen fast. He picked up the pace.

"Well don't give up. I'm sure you'll figure it out." She smiled and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I wish I could help more…but I'm just as stumped as you are." Her smile faded just a bit.

Nim didn't even know how to respond. He was stumped. None of this made any sense to him at all. He could feel the world growing all around him and he was becoming small. Insignificant. Cold.

Alone.

He just stood there for a moment. Nothing else was around him.

Wait.

"Gisele?" He called out. No one responded.

He reached for his wand and held out out.

Silence.

He gulped and took a deep breath. He had to remain calm no matter what happened.

He steadied his breath.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

Nim felt the wand fly out of his hand. He shot a frightened look in the direction of the voice.

A hooded figure stood, next to the stairwell on the right.

It was hard to see in the dim blue, but from the figure, he assumed it to be a female. She wore a metal mask resembling that of a bird. Long, flowing blonde hair billowed from the sides.

"Who are you?" Nim asked. He had no wand, no way of defending himself. He was at her mercy. He wanted to know why.

"Not important." The woman replied. Her voice was deep and low. A long, high heeled boot clacked against the floor. It was cherry red, odd because it wasn't purple in the dim blue lighting.

"Where are we?" Nim asked again. Taking a step back.

"Not important." She took another step foward.

"Then what is important?" Nim's eyes began scanning for his wand.

"Your blood." The woman took two more steps toward him.

"Why?" Nim finally spotted it, some thirty feet to his right.

"It's the beginning of the end." He couldn't see her due to the mask, but imagined a sneer forming on her face from her tone.

"The end? Of what?" Nim readied himself.

"Not important." She raised her wand. _"Crucio!"_ A beam of red light jetted from her wand. If Nim hadn't been ready to dive that very second, he assumed it would have hit him. Luckily, he was ready.

He dove out of the way, much like he would from his broomstick if it were about to crash. He rolled and dashed towards the wand. More jets of red curses spat at him. He wasn't sure exactly what sort of magic this was, but imagined it wasn't meant to make him feel good.

A brick exploded next to him, causing him to jerk left, twisting his ankle in the process. A white blade seared through his leg and he cried out. The witch laughed and shrieked. He rolled, barely avoiding the jinx.

With one, last ditch effort, he reached for his wand. He clasped the handle, when more daggers shot up his whole body. His eyes bulged and searing pain made him feel like he was on fire. He screamed, contorting in pain. Jabbing needles surged through his arms and upper abdomen.

"Not so fun is it?" The witch walked up to him, clicking her heels as she walked.

Nim couldn't help but scream in torture. It was like being thrown into a fire, but unable to die. The flames, making his skin scream and burn. He wanted to rip it off. He began scratching, but the pain only intensified.

"The cruciatus curse. Nasty little bugger ain't it?" She knelt next to him.

He tried to respond, but moving his lips made them feel like they were being ripped off. He cried in agony. The pain, rolling over him like waves of a lava filled ocean.

The witch pulled out a vial and took a syringe from her inner jacket. "No hard feelings, just came here for one thing."

Through the pain and the torture, Nim struggled. She had mentioned his blood. He didn't know why, but he had to keep it from her at all costs. He grit his teeth, so hard that they began to go numb and ache.

With every ounce of strength he could summon, he kicked the witches hand, sending the syringe out and shattering it on the nearby wall.

"You really shouldn't have done that…" The witch stood up and pointed her wand at him. _"Imperio."_ She muttered.

The pain vanished in an instant. Nim was floating. He smiled and looked around. His skin no longer hurt, his teeth no longer ached, and there were no more invisible needles. He was so relaxed he almost forgot about the witch.

"I need you to prick your finger on this for me."

The words came like sweet honey to his ears. He grinned and nodded. The witch held out a knife. He walked up to her and outstretched his fingers.

_Stop her._

A new voice. A colder voice. He wanted to ignore it, but couldn't will his hand to move.

_STOP HER! DON'T LET HER DO THIS!_

The euphoria started to sink away. Honey turned to molasses.

"N…no." He managed as he took a step back.

"What was that?" The witch tilted her head.

"No!" He yelped and took two more steps back.

"Stop fighting it. You want to prick your hand, it'll make all the pain go away. It'll make your mommy and daddy come back."

How did she know his parents were dead?

Unsure what to make of this, Nim fought through the haze and the illusion. He knew what was happening now. She was in his head, some form of mind control.

"I refuse." He shook his head, picking up his wand and pointing it at her.

"Come," The witch looked at him through her hollow, steeled mask. "HERE!"

The haze tried to pull him back, but he fought. It was a partial success. However, the recoil sent him flying into the nearby wall. He hit, face first against the stone. He yelped as a tooth went flying. Blood spurted from the open wound onto the wall. He cried.

The haze lifted.

"Not quite what I had in mind, but this works too." He heard the witch's heels clack as she walked away.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her stand over the tooth which had gone flying to the other side of the corridor.

It was covered in blood.

He'd lost.

He tried to will himself up, but pain shot through his face. The stone had cut his cheek and his forehead. All he could do was sob and moan as she bent over to reach for it.

_"STUPEFY!"_

The witch howled and reeled back as a blast shot past her face.

The blue world suddenly dissolved. They were back in the normal Hogwarts with its normal portraits. Nim continued to rock back and forth in pain, but watched as the witch disappeared in a flash of black smoke.

"But that's impossible." Professor Coremund stood there. Gisele and several other students were behind him. "No one can disapparate in Hogwarts…"

"Nim!" Gisele ran up to him. She coddled his head in her lap. He groaned, the pain worsening. He could taste the copper blood running down his lips. "He needs medical attention now!"

His vision blurred a bit before passing out.

\-----------------------------

Nim felt streams of consciousness over the next few hours, but allowed his body to rest. In an odd way, he'd gotten what he wanted. Some alone time.

However, as soon as he heard Gisele crying, he knew he couldn't keep up the charade.

"Ugh." He rubbed his eye. Instead of the intense pain he expected to feel, his mouth and face felt numb. He poked at it, but there was no sensation.

"Oh thank god." Gisele ran over as she saw and heard him. She wrapped her arms around him. "I thought…I mean you were there one moment and then the next…I thought I lost you…" She sniffled.

"It's fine." He said, hugging her back from his sitting position on the bed. From the numbness, he imagined part of his smile was crooked, though without a mirror he was powerless to see it himself.

"What…happened exactly?" She asked.

"Yes, what did happen?"

Nim looked up to see Professor Rosma and Madame Thomasson. Both ladies had quizzical looks.

"You know, we are going to become fast friends if you keep ending up here." Madame Thomasson strode over, quickly waved her wand over his forehead and handed him a cup filled with a murky, brown liquid. "Drink this, you'll be fine by morning. Tooth might ache a bit though. This will help with that."

"So I can play in the game, tomorrow?" Nim asked.

"Yes, yes you can play in your silly quidditch game and get injured again and then just come right back and I'll fix you up." She rolled her eyes, handed him the cup and walked off. "Frankly, I doubt I really want to know what happened. Nothing appears to be broken. Keep off the ankle until tomorrow." She waved. "Let me know if I'm needed Amelia."

"Thanks," Professor Rosma, pushed back a wisp of her white hair aside. "…Hildegard."

There was a tense moment between the two women. if Nim had to fathom a guess, neither of them liked their first names, or being addressed by them very much. The nurse walked off shortly after.

"As you were about to say," Professor Rosma turned towards Nim and Gisele again. Her red rimmed glasses glinted in the pale moonlight streaming from a nearby window.

Nim took a breath and began reliving his recent encounter. Once he was done, both Gisele and Professor Rosma were silent for a moment.

"You had…unforgivable curses used on you. I'm not even sure how you are able to talk." Professor Rosma finally said. "And you claim you actually were able to repel the Imperius curse?"

Nim nodded.

"Remarkable." She pushed her glasses to the bridge of her nose and eyed him. "There aren't many untrained wizards who can do that."

Nim felt awkward hearing praise. "Where is Professor Coremund?" He blurted.

"He was here." Gisele said. "But a few minutes ago he had to-"

"Professor Rosma."

The doors to the hospital wing swung open as Professor Coremund burst through.

"Sir, I have patients who are resting." Madame Thomasson put her hand on her hip as the entire wing buzzed with chatter.

"My apologies," he bowed to her briefly before continuing over to Professor Rosma. "Professor, I need a word…alone." He looked to Nim and Gisele. "Sorry, it's urgent. Glad you seem to be better."

"Thanks…" Nim said, unable to express his true gratitude for being saved. The two Professors promptly walked off behind a secluded area of the wing. "Wish I knew what that was about…" Nim said, wondering if it had something to do with the recent events.

"Then…maybe we should put this to use." Gisele pulled out what looked like two fleshy ears attached by a string.

"What's that?" Nim asked.

"It's a retractable ear. A Weasley & Weasley invention. I picked one up from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes." She grinned. "Owner was nice chap…just missing an ear. Kinda gross if you looked close enough."

Gisele helped Nim who "wasn't supposed to move" in a way that kept his ankle steady. The pair of them approached the secluded area and stood behind the screen door. Gisele pressed one ear up to it, and they listened through the other.

"…be serious." Professor Rosma said.

"I'm deadly serious. I'd go, but with someone who has found a way to apparate inside of Hogwarts…we need someone strong enough to counter this. And if what you are telling me is true, then this person can also cast unforgivable curses. On top of that, it appears this person can also take a student at will, seclude them, and isolate them long enough to do whatever they want to them. Are you able to handle this, if need be, on your own? Be honest with me." Professor Coremund asked.

"…No." Professor Rosma replied after a moment. "Not on my own, at least."

"Then I need you to go to Durmstrang."

"What is it you aren't telling me?" Professor Rosma asked. "We've been colleagues so long. What would be so important that Headmaster Potter had to leave the Triwizard Tournament?"

There was silence for a moment. Nim wondered if the conversation ended.

"It's because…" Professor Coremund said.

"Yes?"

"It's because Stanley Yance and Hermione Granger were murdered last night."

A/N: I'M SORRY! I KNOW YOU ARE PROBABLY UPSET :( It's never fun to lose someone you love. I promise, there is a reason for these recent events. In any case, things are getting veeeerrry interesting. The build up to the climax is happening! I'm so excited that I'm drawing on the close of this story. There's still at least 3 or 4 chapters left in this story, but I'll give you a heads up when that happens. There's at least a couple more major events that need to occur first. Thank you all for reading and not giving up on me. I know I'm slow at getting these chapters up. I appreciate your patience. There's been a ton of traction on this story and I couldn't be happier. Please review/comment/message me thoughts. I love to hear from readers :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'M SORRY! I KNOW YOU ARE PROBABLY UPSET :( It's never fun to lose someone you love. I promise, there is a reason for these recent events. In any case, things are getting veeeerrry interesting. The build up to the climax is happening! I'm so excited that I'm drawing on the close of this story. There's still at least 3 or 4 chapters left in this story, but I'll give you a heads up when that happens. There's at least a couple more major events that need to occur first. Thank you all for reading and not giving up on me. I know I'm slow at getting these chapters up. I appreciate your patience. Please review/comment/message me thoughts. I love to hear from readers :)


	20. Outlier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim sifts through new information.

Chapter 19: Outlier

Nim recalled one of the names from the joke shop. That minister guy who had said he was going to look into this further was called Mr. Yance. It couldn't be coincidence.

Gisele helped Nim back to his cot and lay him down.

"This is serious." She said after a moment.

"Isn't Yance, or whatever his name was, in the Ministry or something?" Nim asked.

"Yeah, both of them were actually." Gisele frowned. "Stanley Yance was the head of the Department of Defense and Hermione Granger was the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures…or I should say Department for the Proper and Equal Treatment of All Magical Creatures…I don't know it's gotten sort of confusing lately."

"Two heads of Ministry Offices?" Nim asked. "That's not good at all."

"No, very serious." Gisele sighed. "I wish there was a better way to handle things than to kill people."

Nim wanted to comment. Something was odd about this whole thing. First, Pete from the store had died. Then his brother had seemingly come back from the dead. Next, there was the witch incident. Now, the wizard who had pledged to get to the bottom of the joke shop incident was dead. The coincidences were piling up. Someone knew him, to a surprisingly high amount of detail.

"What if somehow this is all connected?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" Gisele asked in return.

"Well, what if his death were connected to the other strange things that are happening to me?"

"Okay, I missed something, somewhere. Fill me in." She sat nearby as he recounted the events that had lead up to this moment.

"So, you think someone is killing and or harming those close to you?" She asked when he finished.

"Or at least, people who are connected to me in some way…" He tapped his forehead trying to beat a logical answer out of his skull.

"Then why kill Hermione?" Gisele posed.

This was where the trail ran cold. Prior to tonight, Nim had not known Hermione Granger, nor had he any interaction with her. Why she'd been a part of this…he couldn't fathom.

"Maybe that's the key." He said.

"Visiting time is over." Madame Thomasson called out.

"You shouldn't worry too much about this right now." Gisele stood up. "Get some rest, we have a game tomorrow." She gave him a quick hug. "Let's talk to the others about this after the game, yes?"

Nim hesitated. He was still furious with Bill and Rowena. He really didn't want to talk to them if he could avoid it.

"After the game, let's talk…about how to proceed." Nim said, choosing his words carefully.

Gisele smiled. "I'm just…glad you are okay." She blushed and turned, walking off.

Nim blinked, wondering about this last reaction. So much had happened on a very bizarre and dreadful Valentine's Day that he had trouble keeping it all straight. As much as Gisele had warned him not to worry about it, worry was all he could do. There was a flicker of a guess as to why Mr. Yance had been murdered, but Hermione Granger made no sense. As he lay there, watching the lights turn off and then staring into the darkness, he tried to piece it together.

\--------

Nim rubbed his eyes and sat up. He didn't remember falling asleep, but based on his drowsy state of being, he clearly had. A soft purring sounded at the foot of his bed made him shift. He looked to see Miranda curled up. He sat up and ran his fingers through her soft fur. She was warm and yawned as he rubbed her side. She stretched and began to flick her tail back and forth. Nim giggled and ran his hand along it.

"Morning dearie," Madame Thomasson came by with the cart. "Glad to see you're awake. Thought you might like toast with a bit of jam."

Nim nodded. His stomach let out a low rumble.

"There you are." She handed him a plate. He began to gnaw into it, tasting the sweet pear jam slathered across it. It was cooked to perfection, a bit of a crunch but not too crunchy.

"Would you like the paper?" She held out a copy of The Daily Prophet.

Nim was going to refuse, but the noticed a headline regarding "Two Mysterious Deaths."

"Sure." He nodded. She handed it to him and he began to flip through. The article went into great details about the mystery surrounding the deaths of Stanley Yance and Hermione Granger. It mentioned how they were found. Both with terrified expressions on their faces and dying as if nothing was wrong with them. The article discussed how a dark lord had once recruited followers, using the "Avada Kedavra" killing curse on them. Though the two Department Heads' deaths seemed similar, the entire Ministry appeared baffled as to what killed them.

"They didn't show any of the typical signs of being killed by the curse." Said one Ministry official, Lucille Charity. "I've seen my fair share of witches and wizards killed by the curse, researched the topic extensively in fact, and none of this fits. It's as if they died instantly, oddly similar to a basilisk attack, but without the petrification. What was really peculiar about this though, is how far extended their mouths were when they were found. It's like they were screaming as loud as they could when they died and just stayed that way."

Nim felt his heart drop and closed his eyes.

_He was nine, returning home after buying a loaf of bread at the market, of which he'd stolen a bite. He'd finished crying, wiping the salty sting from his eyes. He had just turned the corner down his street, past the matching white with brown trim houses that lined it. No sooner had he looked at his house, he knew something was off._

_The door was ajar._

_He picked up his pace and hurried over. His feet feeling heavy with each step. He reached his porch and pushed the door open._

_He recalled every detail. From the moment his eyes crawled over the bodies of his dead family. He could feel chills and anguish he didn't know existed. His hands trembling and the bread falling to the floor. The eyes, which had finally dried from the fight earlier, began to sting again. He could hear his breath catch somewhat before the first sob._

_"M-mum." The statement came in between watery gasps. He could feel his nose run, but made no effort to wipe it._

_His mother, with her pink and yellow flowered dress, lay motionless. He crawled over to her, unable to fully steady himself, but making it despite a stumble here and there. He reached out his hand and tilted her face towards his, his lip trembling._

_His eyes widened and he let out the hybrid of a hysterical sob and a shriek._

_Her face was twisted into a horrified expression with her mouth extending larger than he'd seen it before._

Nim tried to push the memory aside, but unable to hold back a stray tear which he wiped away with his sleeve. He read more of the article.

"In any case," Miss Charity continued. "This isn't the first death like this. When Peter Pontaine was found a couple months ago, his body had similarities to this set of murders. If I have anything to say about it, the Ministry should open an official investigation."

Pete.

Nim stopped reading. He couldn't handle anymore. If there were any doubt in his mind that this was connected, the last statement made it vanish. He had a new lead. Something tangible to grasp on to. Something was killing people who were connected to him in some way. A way that was not explainable with common science and understanding. Something he had to put into a term that he had struggled with since coming to Hogwarts.

The deaths were caused by magic.

Just then, a bell sounded in the distance. Nim's eyes widened when it struck a twelfth time.

"The match."

He scrambled out of bed, throwing his robes on. He winced a little bit. The pain from where his tooth had been knocked out was a bit much. He ignored it though. His match was in less than an hour and his team would be expecting him.

"You sure you're okay?" Madame Thomasson called as Nim took off. He didn't respond. No time. His feet hit the ground with loud patters. He frantically scrambled towards the Gryffindor tower.

"Figgy Pudding!" He yelled as he turned the corner.

"Well yes, but there's no need to shout." The fat lady puffed as she swung aside.

He dashed in and through the stairwell, going up to his attic. He scraped his elbow against the cobblestone, stifling a swear word. He reached the wooden door, and flung it open. He scampered to his broomstick, quickly threw on his flying gear, and hurried back down. He didn't have much time.

He shot back down the corridor, debating flying his broom through the halls, even though it was prohibited.

"Gonna miss the big game." Russ chuckled as he raced back through the tower and out into the halls.

"Not today!" Nim shouted back. He skidded to a stop, nearly falling off one of the rotating stairwells that lead to the great hall, reconfigured his internal compass, and sped off towards the locker rooms.

He turned a corner, almost running into a pair of second year Hufflepuffs discussing, "Eldora's disappointing second round" in what Nim assumed was the Triwizard Tournament. He wanted more details, but pressed on, racing for the locker room.

He reached the door after what seemed an eternity and swung the doors open.

"Where have you been?"

As Nim shoved the door open to the room, the smells of sweat and body odor wafting into his nostrils, Gisele stood with her arms folded.

"I'm sorry, but I'm here aren't I?" Nim scowled, setting his stuff down and adjusting his gear properly.

"Barely, Captain Ward is furious."

"He can stuff it." Nim laced his shoes and reached for his broom polish.

"In any case, I'm glad you're alright…" She said.

"Funny way of showing it." Nim stood up.

"Don't be like that. Come off it." Gisele rolled her eyes. "You can get mad at me all you want after the game is over, focus your anger on Ravenclaw…they beat Hufflepuff earlier this week and it was a blow out…Ward's-"

"Ward's what?"

Both Nim and Gisele looked at their team captain. His eyes narrowed like an angry hawk.

"N-nothing." Gisele stammered.

"Damn right nothing!" He scowled. He turned to Nim.

"And just where were you? You missed the pre game practice."

"Oh you know, being treated for tooth removal and other things associated with fighting for my life." Nim folded his arms.

"Think that's funny? If you aren't here, I have to forfeit my game. If you aren't in top shape, I'm the laughing stock of the school for playing on a team no house would ever root for. Your condition, your well being, your ability to perform…all of that falls on me. And I'm here, not having heard a word from you in almost two days going out of my mind. Are you even ready for this game?"

Nim stood up. He remembered how timid he used to be, how hard it was for him to socialize when he got to school, whatever shred of the former boy who couldn't stand up for himself, was gone in this moment.

"Yeah. I bloody well think I am."

"You better be." Ward turned away. "Don't disappoint me." He walked off.

Nim felt his heart race. He wanted to punch something in that moment, but a hand on his shoulder and a head shake from Gisele calmed him down.

_Focus your anger on Ravenclaw…_ Gisele's words rang in the back of his mind.

Right.

He had a game to focus on. He finished polishing his broomstick and tightened the straps on his riding boots.

"Ready?!" He heard Captain Ward call.

"Coming!" He shouted back and sprinted over.

The whole team looked both annoyed and pumped at the same time. Bill wouldn't even acknowledge him.

Ward began a pep talk, of which Nim didn't have much interest. He tried to push the entire situation involving the mysterious deaths from his mind, but was having little success. All he could see were flashes of his dead mother's face.

"Alright, let's go out there and show them we are better than rejects!" Ward cheered. The others, except Bill, cheered too.

Nim shook his head, looking at Ward's split second glare. It fired him up.

He was going to show that smug redhead he could handle this whether it killed him or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Gonna have us some Quidditch next chapter woo hoo! Also, I was debating having the Quidditch match this chapter, but opted for a much more exciting chapter intro next time. This might add another chapter to the story overall, but just gives everyone more to look forward to :) Thank you to all my readers. I can't begin to express what you all mean to me :) This has gone so much better than anticipated for having written without really planning anything up front. As always, please give me feedback and comments. I love hearing from you all.


	21. The Kensingtons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim's first Quidditch match commences. He reconnects with Rowena after.

The air whipped past Nim's bangs while he raced. It took everything he had not to get knocked off his broomstick when a bludger, zoomed inches from his shoulder.

"Nice one!" Gisele called out, throwing a thumbs up.

Nim grinned and the pair left to rejoin Sineus, who bravely was fending off the three Ravenclaw Chasers while holding the Quaffle.

The crowd was more receptive to the Inter-House than any of the players anticipated…though they gathered this was from anti-other house support than anything else. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins cheered loudly, drowning out the Ravenclaw section as Sineus weaved in and out of vicious attacks.

Gisele signaled to Nim to go up and he followed her lead. She dove down as he rose. In practice, the two had gone over several maneuvers to prepare with. This was the "pincer attack." In this maneuver, they'd go opposite directions and dive straight in.

He rose and then whooshed downwards at one of the Ravenclaw Chasers who bolted at the last second to avoid the collision. Gisele had explained being firm in your resolve would determine who gave first. Nim passed Gisele on his way down, giving her a high five and pulling upwards on his boom, swerving to avoid colliding with the ground. He looked up to see that the distraction allowed Sineus to swoop in, breaking through the defense, and opened him up to score, which he did with relative ease.

Cheers and Jeers erupted and the excited announcer commented on the skill of "Mr. Knott."

Sineus' nose crinkled at this. Nim wasn't sure if anyone else noticed. He seldom ever heard the Slytherin called by his last name…apparently there might be a reason for that. Whatever it was, Nim couldn't dwell as Ravenclaw now controlled the Quaffle. The score was in their favor, they were up 40 points even with the brilliant score by Sineus.

Nim pegged the rightmost chaser, in accordance with Ward's instructions and followed him with hawklike persistence.

Once close enough, Nim would distract and fly in ways that kept the Chaser's mind off of it's task. Disrupting the flow of their strategy was key. It had immediate effects. Whatever pattern their team followed, Nim's target was not on par.

"Go Gisele!" One of the Gryffindors cheered. Nim looked to see Gisele easily block a pass probably intended for the chaser he was on.

Immediately, Nim regretted his decision to look. A bludger hit him square in the jaw.

"Ha ha!" A familiar jeer rose nearby from a giant brown haired Ravenclaw.

Moreau.

Nim rubbed his aching jaw, which now hurt to keep closed. He looked like a gaping idiot. The bullies, Moreau and Sorbo, were the beaters for Ravenclaw…both carrying their reputations onto the field.

Nim couldn't stop. He raised his wand.

_"Episkey."_

He cringed as a crack made his entire face erupt in firey pain. Soon it washed away as his jaw relocated itself. However, the bludger tactic, however dirty, proved effective.

"Tess scores again for Ravenclaw! Score, 90-40!" The announcer shouted again.

The red haired Ravenclaw gave a signature "one fingered salute" after her goal which made the Ravenclaw spectators "oooh" and "aaah."

Nim shook his head. At some point, he figured he should probably take after her and get a signature move of some point. But not now. The Quaffle was thrown to him from Ward.

Time to get serious.

He sped off in the opposite direction, knowing any minute he'd be pursued.

It didn't take long.

"Watch it!"

Nim swooped to the side, as per his command from Gisele. As he did, a bludger collided with the Ravenclaw chaser who'd been about to ram him. He dove downwards, avoiding another.

Gisele and Sineus both had to work to make Arla Tess, the red-haired chaser, distracted in order for Nim to pass through.

He flew sideways a brief moment, almost losing the Quaffle in the process, and zoomed in and out of the base of the stands to avoid a bludger battle between Sorbo and Moira. It was like watching an old game of pong, the bludger being hit back and forth between the two, neither backing down.

It made Nim's life difficult though as he kept seeming to get in between the pair and having to stray off course.

Once he was finally free of the intense battle, he gave the broom everything he had and dashed towards the goal.

The Keeper seemed ready, matching Nim's every movement. If Nim veered left, the Keeper would veer left. Nim's time to plan was rapidly approaching his end.

Then it hit him like the bludger had hit him before.

He rose straight up, the Keeper's eyebrows raising. After a minute, Nim, in a deft movement of speed and luck, flipped the broom under him falling backwards. Gisele had run the routine with him a few times, but he'd only successfully avoided injury once.

He prayed this worked.

As he plummeted towards the ground, backwards on his broom, he looked in the direction of the posts.

He'd only get one shot.

He took a deep breath and counted. As soon as he hit seven, he lunged the Quaffle with a hard curve.

It worked.

The red ball sailed passed the Keeper's hands and right into the hoop.

Now for the hard part.

Getting into this position was easy, getting out not so much. He reached behind him, pulling on the broom as hard as he could. It slowly inched it's way level to the ground, enough so that his feet could brush. He used the force of the ground to whip his body around in a semi circular motion to face forward on the broom.

It worked, but not without Nim whacking himself in the face with the handle. He swore as he felt the bruise form on his cheek. He'd have to practice more with Gisele later to work out the kinks in the routine.

"And the 1st year scores! Blimey that was impressive. Oh and now the whistle is being blown! William Kensington has caught the snitch! Game over. Good show by the Inter House team!"

The crowd roared, deafening.

"It's Bill."

Nim heard the scowl as the Slythern touched down holding the golden ball in his left fist.

"Never gets old does it?" Nim rolled his eyes.

"Never." Bill huffed. "Fancy moves out there. Gisele teach you how to hit yourself in the face all by yourself?" He smirked.

Nim's fist balled.

"We don't talk for almost two days and that's all you have to say to me?" He felt anger rise in his voice.

"Wave to the happy spectators Nim. It's not becoming of our team to squabble now is it?" Bill winked and waved.

Nim held back his anger in that moment. Bill wasn't wrong. He grit his teeth, gave a half smile, and waved. The rest of the team joining them moments later.

"We did it!" Ward clapped both Bill and Nim on their shoulders. "Great work all of you. This will surely put us on the path towards the House cup! Just think, largest upset in Hogwarts history as none of the individual Houses take it home?"

Nim stopped paying attention as Ward continued boasting. He'd done what he said he was going to do, and now he was going to go ponder what he'd learned in the hospital.

"Gonna come to the hall to celebrate with us?" Ward called.

Nim didn't need to. He'd proven his worth today and there was no need to let that smug redhead have any more of his time.

"Enjoy." Nim dismissed and walked off. He didn't feel much like partying. Gisele looked like she wanted to protest, but didn't and continued to celebrate with the rest of the team. Bill didn't even bother acknowledging him.

He changed in the locker, making sure to put ointment on the bruise on his cheek, and left in his robes. There were no classes for the remainder of the day and he wanted to go to the library to do more research on the newspapers.

"Nim!"

Nim sighed. He could hear Rowena in her tall platform high heels racing towards him. He didn't want to acknowledge her, still being upset from the other day. But there was no avoiding this time.

"What?" He said with a hint of annoyance.

"You can't be alone in the halls! Did you forget what Headmaster Potter said?"

In truth, he had. For one moment, he wanted to be alone to ponder everything.

"I know." He said, looking around for anyone else, but only seeing Rowena in her stunning blue and black striped blouse topped by a sequin shirt. Her green hair was flowing loose today, coming down to her elbows. She'd trimmed her bangs very straight.

"Right then, what are you up to?" Rowena walked up to him.

"Going to the library."

"About?"

Nim shot her a glare. "I'm still not okay with how things went yesterday."

"I know. I'm sorry okay?" Rowena said. "I just, worry about you. I don't have…"

She paused and Nim looked back. He was shocked to see tears forming.

"I don't have a lot of friends okay? A lot of people don't get me." She rubbed her arms. "I just-" She sighed. "I just worry one day I'm going to wake up and you are going to be dead somehow, you know?"

"What?" Nim shook his head.

"I just don't want to see you end up dead." She snapped wiping her tears away. "Someone's after you and I won't rest until you are safe. That means I might do things or might hold back information if I think it's going to keep you safe."

"How was keeping the stone information from me keeping me safe?" Nim shot back. "I almost got expelled over it. You should have told me as soon as you knew. You and Bill."

"I'm not sure Bill has your best interests in mind." Rowena said, taking a deep breath at the end. Her tears were gone now, either wiped away or being pushed back.

"Huh?"

"Not here." Rowena looked around. "To the library? I-I promise to tell you what I know."

"Alright." Nim said. There was something in her voice that told him it was important. The pair of them walked off to the library.

Given most students were still discussing and celebrating the match, there wasn't many people present. Devoid of most students, only the truly devout studiers remained. Well, and the librarian. The name tag, Mr. Umbridge, glowed in the dim light from the check out desk. His balding head leaned into whatever it was he was writing.

Nim and Rowena took a very secluded spot as far from him as possible. Technically neither could talk above a whisper here.

"So what's going on?" Nim asked once they'd settled.

"Things Bill has said…don't really add up. There are bits and pieces that I haven't been able to fit to the story."

"What do you mean?" Nim asked.

"Have you…caught him lying ever?" Rowena asked.

Nim was about to say no, but then the incident in the basement resurfaced. In fact, Bill had lied to him that day, saying he'd known Gisele had a cat. At least, he hadn't confirmed it was a lie anyways. In any case, he nodded to Rowena.

"I thought so." She sighed. "I know you didn't want me to badmouth him in front of you, you made that perfectly clear-"

"He's an ass." Nim said. A loud "shh" sounded from the front desk. Nim waved to the aging librarian. He resumed speaking in a much lower tone. "So what does this mean?"

"It means, it's entirely possible Bill is conspiring against you."

Nim couldn't speak for a minute. They had their differences, sure, but would he really go as far as to want to kill him? He tried to ponder the implications.

"We shouldn't jump to that conclusion yet. How has he lied?" Nim asked. No matter how much of an ass Bill was, they were friends. He would go down any avenue to defend his friend until proven guilty.

"Well, for starters. His last name isn't really Kensington…" Rowen said.

"What?" Nim blinked.

"Yeah. I mean, it is legally. But it's not his birth name." Rowena pulled out a copy. She put it forward and gave it. "I wasn't going to pursue this, because I know he's your friend and all. However, when he talked about visiting his mother, he mentioned her name on the train when we went home for break. So, on the off chance his other lies had merit, I checked into it. Victoria Kensington had her name legally changed about five years ago. Before that, she had a very…known name in the wizarding community."

She held out the papers.

"I, Victoria Fawley, do request to change my last name to Kensington."

It was one of the opening lines. It went on to mention all of the steps she had to do in order to change it.

"So, his mother had a name change, so what?" Nim asked.

"This is where…it gets interesting. See Fawley is one of the oldest pureblood lines in the wizarding community. That makes Bill heir to a famous bloodline."

"So?" Nim still didn't see where she was going with this.

"So…why hide this from us?" She folded her arms. "At any point, if we were his friends, you don't think he'd mention this to us?"

"Okay so he didn't mention his last name. It's not like he's really lied to us. You know?" Nim said.

"You are right. In and of itself, it's just a tip of the iceberg. But, it's not the only thing. I mean what do you really know about him?" She asked.

"Well, he has a mom." Nim folded his arms.

"Okay, if you are just going to shoot me down, I can leave." She stood up.

"No that's not." Nim sighed, unfolding his arms. "Sorry I just have a lot on my mind and I'd hate to have my friend being someone behind it."

"But you have no choice." Rowena put her hand on her hip. "Someone wants…well I assume wants you dead, has somehow contacted your dead brother, and has people warping into this supposedly impenetrable school. You have to assume anyone could be after you. Including Bill."

"I know he's lied okay?" Nim said. "Bill's had plenty of chances to kill me, one on one, you know? Why not take it?"

"I know, but please hear me out. Wasn't one of the attacks on you carried out after he left you alone in the Room of Requirement?" Rowena sat down again looking seriously at him.

In fact it had. If Starm hadn't intervened. Nim put his hand on his chin thinking.

"Also, didn't Bill conveniently find you after your attack in the basement?" She asked.

This was the one piece of the puzzle Nim couldn't wrap his brain around. It did seem oddly convenient.

"But he saved me." Nim said.

"It…appeared like he saved you." Rowena corrected. "I'm just posing this as a hypothetical because we have to consider the facts. He 'saved' you from your brother who was choking you to death. What if it's not about killing you though?" She said. "What if it's simply about kidnapping you? Or, if we believe what you've told us about the elf and your blood and what not. What if it's about getting your blood? Maybe he does have some…friendship towards you. Getting your blood would be as easy as killing you, as it sounds like your brother was trying to do. Maybe Bill saved you, not out of trying to defend you, but maybe out of some feeling of friendship?"

"Isn't that good?"

"Well normally, sure." Rowena said. "But if it's just about getting your blood for…whatever obsessive reason someone has, he wouldn't need…or maybe even want you dead."

"So you think, he stopped my brother from killing me not because he's doing it out of the goodness of his heart, but that he's playing two sides?" Nim asked, starting to see where Rowena was going with this.

"Exactly. Why else would he be throwing us lies and half-truths here and there?" Rowena asked.

She had a point. It was plausible that Bill was against him.

"Well if he wants my blood, why hasn't he taken it? He's had so many chances to do it." Nim said after thinking about it.

"I don't know. Actually," Rowena paused tilting her head up. "Maybe he doesn't want to be directly involved."

"What purpose would that serve?" Nim asked.

"I have a couple theories. The first is he's being blackmailed. The second is that he's worried about being expelled. I mean, if he really is against you and has some plan to harm you, that's grounds for expulsion."

Nim blinked. "I still don't know if I buy it."

"That's fine. But don't forget it. Just, be careful around him. It's one of the reasons I haven't been able to speak freely with you about my suspicions and why…" She sighed. "It's why I didn't mention anything about the cabinet in the basement not having the stone. Bill did tell me that he figured it out on the way back to Hogwarts, but the way he said it…" She said. "He lied about how he came upon the information."

"How's that?"

"His mother…" She said. "Never attended Hogwarts."

"So? What if she'd heard about it from-"

"I'm going to stop you there." Rowena said. "Professors are sworn to secrecy about that cabinet. It's something that only someone with strong connections to Hogwarts would know about it."

"How did you figure it out then?" Nim folded his arms.

"I…I can't say." Rowena bit her lip. "All I can say…is that I have a strong connection to…someone who knew about it."

"Come on Rowena. I can handle it. You said you were going to tell me what you knew."

"I know, it's not about you this time. It's about…something I swore I'd take to the grave. I just I can't say how I know…"

"Fine." Nim said. "But that makes you a possible suspect as well then. If it's so secret, you sent me down there to get caught for all I know."

"No!"

"If I have to tell you to be quiet one more time you two." Mr. Umbridge looked up with a scowl.

"Sorry, sorry." Rowena's cheeks flushed. She turned back to Nim. "I'd never do that. I promise."

Nim wanted to believe her. He really did. In that moment, she looked honest. Her eyes had nothing but friendship shining back.

"Okay." He said. "I believe you. You probably wouldn't bother sharing any of this with me if you had it in for me."

Rowena smiled. "Exactly."

"Okay, my turn." Nim took time to explain everything, from the Valentine, to what he and Gisele had learned up in the hospital wing. When he was done, she sat there.

"I knew they died." She said. "But I had no idea it could be connected to you. I think you're right about everything." She said. "Let me do some research on the pair of them now that I have reason to. I'll get possible connections and we can meet again. Sound okay?"

Nim nodded. The pair of them stood up and left after that. All that needed to be said, had been. They walked in silence through the halls, looking at everyone who passed with suspicion. Somewhere, someone in this school had it in for him. Nim couldn't help but suspect everyone.

"There you are!"

Nim turned back to see Gisele run up to them.

"So glad to see you two speaking again." She smiled.

"Gisele." Rowena nodded.

"Rowena." Gisele replied.

Nim felt tension as the two girls plastered on fake smiles. He honestly couldn't figure out why they didn't get along.

"So…Gisele, nice playing." Nim said after a couple moments of awkward silence.

"Thanks, you as well." She said.

"I'll catch up with you later, I have some studying to do." Rowena smiled and waved, walking off.

"Where'd you go?" She asked.

"Just to do some research with Rowena, you know about Yance and Granger." He said.

"Right, probably smart. That girl can figure out anything."

There was a tone to the word anything that Nim could have squeezed the sarcasm out like water from a sponge.

"In any case. Gisele I did have a random question for you if you could humor me."

"Yeah?" She asked. "Lay it on me."

"Have you ever told Bill you had a cat?" He made sure to check that Bill wasn't around as he asked.

"Come to think of it…" Gisele paused.

"Yeah?" Nim asked.

"No, I don't think I have." Gisele said. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason, was just curious thanks." Nim said and smiled. He felt his heart sink.

He had every reason in the world to ask. And now he knew for sure without a doubt in his mind.

_Bill is a suspect._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know I've been teasing it for awhile, but after looking at my notes, looking at what I have left to do in this story, and taking a hard look at the progression, I can finally announce there will be three more chapters and an epilogue. I wasn't entirely sure, but I know exactly where I want to go with this to get to the end (for the first time all story haha). Thank you everyone for having joined me on this journey that I was taking alongside you. I'm humbled and honored so many people have taken time out of their day to read and follow my story. Thank you so much to everyone. Please leave reviews, feedback, comments, or reach out to me privately if you want to chat. I'm so happy people like this. Love my fans and readers!


	22. The Phoenix Tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nim is suspicious of Bill. New developments lead to a breakthrough.

Chapter 21: The Phoenix Tattoo

Nim stayed wary of his former friend for the next few months. They'd talk, they'd eat, they'd hang out with their other friends. But behind every moment with Bill, a cloud of suspicion reigned supreme.

Rowena failed to find any connection between Hermione Granger and Nim, except for the obvious late Stanley Yance. She theorized maybe he suspected her or made a breakthrough with her. But they'd never know.

In class, Nim began comprehending the lessons and applying them in ways that made sense to him. His private lessons with Gisele, Bill, Rowena, and Cyril helped him to excel in ways he didn't think possible.

Professor Lupin was particularly impressed. By the end of April, he'd mastered the three main techniques they were all supposed to learn. Other than Bill, he was the only one in his class to do so by that time.

Even Professor Cera had little to complain about. His brilliant use of the switching spell earned him high marks, at one time switching a goat and a pig successfully where most could barely make them move.

"Not bad." She gave a sour expression, which for anyone outside of Slytherin was high praise.

As he left Transfiguration that afternoon, he felt a chill. He looked around, but saw no windows. Shaking his head he took another step, but stopped and sighed as the familiar frozen world became apparent.

"Long time no talksies."

He twisted to see Starm approach. They were in their familiar setting, bars between them.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"All of your silly questions, none of them ever the right ones." Starm chuckled, ruffling his cape a bit and sitting in front of the bars.

"It'd be nice if you could just tell me if Bill is the one after me and for what purpose, you know." Nim folded his arms. He scowled a bit.

"Tut tut. Why ruin all the fun?" Starm cackled. "Besides, that's not our concern anymore."

"When has anything ever been our concern? It's not like you are ever there to stop the bad things from happening right?" Nim grit his teeth. Months with no success in getting any closer to the mystery of his brother, the deaths of those close to him, or what purpose any of this had weighing on him like a pot of galleons.

"All of these questions." Starm sighed. "The hero needs to shift his focus."

"I'm not a hero and I bloody well don't give a rat's ass about focus." Nim balled his fists and glared at the elf. "Stop speaking to me as if I'm stupid or something."

"Whether you like it or not," Starm stood up. "You are the hero. You are also the Damsel. In time, you will become the Villain." He walked a few paces and turned his back, purple cape making him look like some sort of Frog Prince. "I don't envy the next few years for you. In fact, I believe you are going to be tested in ways you will never imagine."

"What…" Nim couldn't even form a coherent question.

"My time is growing short Nimbus. I don't have long for this world." Starm took a step away. "I will give you once piece of advice: be careful who you trust."

"What do you mean you don't have long for this world?" Nim asked. He couldn't fathom how someone could be so cavalier about their own life.

"I'm mortal, like you. Sure I have a few more tricks, but mortal still the same. Coming here takes a toll on me. A forbidden spell I shall never pass on."

"Why use a spell to tell me things that I can't figure out?" Nim asked. He felt his lip tremble. He'd lost so many people recently. Even if Starm was a pain in the ass, he was still someone in Nim's life. "I don't want you to die for me."

"Because Nimbus," Starm turned around, tears in his eyes. "It was important that you know. It is important you not die too soon. If my life ensures this, it was worth it."

"No it isn't!" Nim slammed on the bars bawling as he pounded against them. "No one's life is worth someone else's."

"You may be right in general, but you don't know…what I know." Starm smiled running his leathery hands along Nim's cheek. A shocking warmness to the touch. "I can't tell you what's to come. That's breaking the rules. All I can do, is guide you."

"Why?" Nim fell to his knees, a blubbering mess.

"Because it is so."

"What am I supposed to do?" Nim wiped his tears.

"Keep the orb safe." Starm said, putting his hand on Nim's. "It will serve you well." He let go, taking a step back.

"Who are you, really?" Nim asked.

"I promise, we will meet again." Starm's body started to glow a light pink. "Alas, the rest is up to you Mr. Albacore. Do with our discussions what you will. Farewell, for now…" He winked as the pink light encompassed him. Soon, his body began to dissolve into spheres of light. Nim felt hot tears sting his cheek as the spheres floated up and then disappearing completely. After a few minutes, there was nothing.

The bars disappeared.

Nim stood up as time began to flow again. People began to walk in the halls, staring at the odd wizard who was bawling on his knees for no apparent reason. Nim took a breath, wiped his tears, and stood up. It took all of his energy to go to the Great Hall for dinner.

Without a word, he sat next to Gisele, shoulders hunched.

"Hey!" She patted him on the shoulder. "I was wondering when you'd-oh. Are you alright?" She asked.

"I-" Nim felt his lip tremble.

"Good evening students." Professor Coremund spoke. Nim was thankful. It helped him avoid a conversation he wasn't ready to admit yet.

"Tonight, we have a special treat for you." He rubbed his mustache, grinning. "The finale of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin and while you feast, you can watch the entire spectacle. Thanks to the brilliance of Professor Simone, we bring you a newly invented charm. Enjoy your feast and may the best wizard, OR WITCH." He paused while the students chuckled. "Win."

Nim took a deep breath. He desperately needed the distraction.

Professor Simone stood up, her auburn hair covering part of her face. She pushed it back, waving her wand, and muttered.

_"Importus."_

The students oohed and ahed as purple sparks few out of the end of her wand, and a cloudy fog began to fill the top of the Great Hall. High above, the students marveled as the fog wove together, creating a backdrop. Then a bright light filled, all students covered their eyes while they adjusted.

"Sorry." Professor Simone squeaked and flicked her wrist.

The light dimmed, and in it's place a colorful display of cheering students appeared.

Nim watched as the scene shifted, a brilliant field that seemed to go on for miles spread out in front. The three champions stood facing the field.

All of Hogwarts cheered loud and proud when the focus turned to Eldora. Her fierce blue eyes focused and undeterred. Her red hair shimmering in the sunlight. She had on a blue dyed leather vest and a green cape. She held her wand firmly in her grasp.

"To recap," An announcer called from off screen. "In first, Emilio Malfoy with 85 points."

There were raucous shouts and cheers. The voices were very masculine and booming. The scene shifted to a blonde boy with slicked back hair and emerald green eyes. He wore almost black from head to toe, a bright red Durmstrang emblem on his upper right chest being the only non black part. He looked fierce and determined.

"In second place, we currently have a tie between Eldora Olivander-"

Before the announcer could finish, more raucous cheering erupted from another off screen location. The other Hogwarts students couldn't help but join. Gisele being one of the rowdiest.

"-and Avery De La Guerre from Beauxbatons with 68 points each."

Unlike the other two schools, there were polite clapping and some high pitched swoons from the audience. The picture moved to a tall, lanky wizard who had long, jet black hair. He looked pale and somewhat sickly, but underneath the exterior, his sharp, brown eyes showed fierce determination.

"Without further ado, here is your final task champion!" The announcer said.

He went on to explain that in order to win, the first champion to reach the other side of the expansive field and pull the flag with the Durmstraung symbol on it would be declared the winner. He also noted that the champions would need to put all of their wits to use as "anything could happen." Nim watched as all three contestants tightly gripped their wands, the cloud screen now split three ways showing each of the three contestants.

The announcer first let Emilio, in first place get a head start. As he did, brick walls shot up high into the sky, splitting the three contestants from seeing each other. It made them jump, but all three reclaimed their determination.

Once Emilio had a good head start, the other two were allowed to go. From there, it was hard to pay attention to all three screens. Nim caught bits and pieces of each. Emilio dealt with some rather nasty creatures that were well hidden in the fields, including a flesh-eating slug, of whose corrosive spit he narrowly avoided, and a particularly feisty chimaera that was relentless in it's attacks.

Avery's entire field turned into a lake the moment he stepped into it. He struggled against the water and had to use a combination of advanced levitation techniques to propel his feet in order to keep from having to swim the whole way. As he wobbly attempted to walk across the water on his newfound legs, he was immediately distracted by several invisible walls that knocked him back in. He appeared to have a difficult time against the many charms and none of his spells did him much good.

Eldora had her own trouble having to navigate over quicksand, falling into an underground labyrinth, and solving a series of complex puzzles in order to escape.

All three contestants put up a fair fight, but it was apparent after about 40 minutes that it was going to come down to Eldora and Emilio. Avery just couldn't seem to discover and push through all of the charms thrown his way.

It was a nail biter, but in the end one reigned supreme.

Scarred, bleeding, and sporting what appeared to be poorly treated burns, Emilio reached the flag just steps in front of a visibly exhausted Eldora. Both contestants, huffing and wincing fell to their knees afterwards.

"We have a winner folks!"

The crowds cheered for Emilio who weakly waved.

Eldora stood up, wobbling she walked over and helped her competitor up. The crowds cheered even louder at the display of sportsmanship. Both of them congratulating the other and somehow managing smiles despite being clearly and utterly drained.

Then the clouds faded and the Great Hall returned to normal. There was clapping and cheers, but not like before. Some students were visibly upset.

The following week, Headmaster Potter, Professor Rosma, Eldora, and the rest of the students returned to Hogwarts to much applause and celebration. Eldora's act of sportsmanship had made the front page of the Prophet and her performance in the maze of puzzles was considered to most to be the most difficult task ever given.

After a disappointing loss against Hufflepuff, the Inter-House team, now called The Impervious Imps after Captain Ward's favorite animal, came back to win every other match of the season. Months of hard work and buckling down to work on flight rotations and patterns had geared them. The final match was scheduled to take place the day before finals week. Given that it was a rematch against Hufflepuff, the Imps trained harder than ever before, which interfered with Nim's studies. It annoyed him, but he also didn't want to let Gisele down who had gotten significantly large recognition as of late. Windsforth the Mighty, for her general prowess on the field, had started to catch on.

Towards the end of May, Finals prep took on a whole new meaning. Cyril and Nim's weekly Wizard's Chess games took a backseat. Soon Nim was constantly in the library, whether with Gisele, Cyril, Rowena, or Bill, who he was now keeping a closer eye on.

During one particularly difficult study session, Cyril admitted something that shocked even Nim.

"This is hard."

Nim could only look back and blink. Cyril the boy wonder who was acing practically every subject admitting something was hard.

"What is hard?" Nim asked.

"This Severing charm. I have no idea how to keep it steady…every time I try." He closed a large, dusty book that made Nim's nose wrinkle. "It just tears this stupid paper to shreds." He slumped against the book. "I'm just going to fail this exam."

"Really? You with the perfect scores on basically everything you do?" Nim couldn't help but stifle a snicker. Though his grades had improved, he was still struggling in many subjects. Unlike Cyril, a couple of his grades actually were riding on passing his finals.

"Everything matters though." Cyril lay like a limp noodle. "If I screw up on one part, it could be the most important part, and if that happens then I could fail, and if I fail I could get expelled, and if I get expelled then I can't come back, and if I don't come back-"

"Enough." Nim laughed and grabbed his friends arm, pulling him up. "Come on, take a break. It's nearly lunch time. Let's go meet up with the others. Get your mind off this."

Cyril tried to protest, but eventually allowed himself to be drug away from his studies.

The pair entered the Great Hall, food already lining the tables. They sat down, this time at the Ravenclaw table, joining Rowena who sported a leather gold hat and a pink, sleek dress.

"Hey." She waved a white glove giving a smile with her golden, glitter lipstick.

They both waved back and sat down on either side.

"So, how is studying going?" She asked.

Both boys groaned.

She giggled in reply.

"Seems everything is in order then. Have either of you seen Gisele…or Bill?" She glanced at Nim.

"No." Cyril said. "Hard to keep track of people when studying makes you want to pull your hair out."

Nim just shook his head. Rowena gave him a nod.

"Ah well, it'd be nice to have at least one last meal…altogether you know?" She sighed, stirring what appeared to be toadstool soup.

"Yeah it-"

Nim was interrupted as an owl swooped overhead, dropping an envelope in front of him.

"Who's it from?" Rowena asked. Both she and Cyril looked concerned as Nim picked it up.

"Doesn't say." Nim gulped. He looked at the front. It was just a small, white envelope that said "To Nim" on it. He exchanged a worried look with them, but slid his wand along the seem, opening it. It was short and to the point.

"If you have received this, I am dead. You don't know me and I don't know you. The only thing you need to know is to Beware the Phoenix Tattoo. They are coming for you Nimbus." At the bottom, the initials HGW were spelled out.

"'Beware the Phoenix Tattoo'?" Rowena wrinkled her nose. "What does that mean?"

"How would I know?" Nim replied. He folded the letter. "In fact, I'm not as worried about the tattoo as I am about 'they'. Who is coming after me?" He shuddered.

"Your brother? That one witch maybe?" Cyril asked.

None of them spoke. It was entirely possible either of those scenarios were true.

Or worse.

"Alright, that's it. We need to call a meeting with the others." Rowena said after a minute of silence.

"Shouldn't we take this to a Professor?" Cyril asked.

"I want to make sure, we aren't reading too much into this first. No use causing a panic before we can get the story straight." Rowena put her fingers up to her chin. "But since they are after Nim…I think he should make the call."

"Sounds reasonable." Cyril said.

Both of them looked at Nim. He considered the options for a moment. Telling professors so far had yielded no real results in helping him figure this out. On the other hand, he wondered what Rowena had up her sleeve. Talking to professors would be more her style. Why approach the others unless...She'd figured something out.

He raised an eyebrow, she nodded back. Cyril seemed confused.

"I think before we do anything, a discussion with the others would be a good idea." He didn't know what she had up her sleeve, but Nim trusted Rowena.

"It's settled then. Cyril, if you'd get Bill, Nim, you snag Gisele. Let's meet at sunset on the grounds near the game keeper's shack." She said.

The two nodded, quickly finished their lunch and parted ways temporarily.

\--------

As agreed, the group met at the spot described.

"What's going on?" Gisele asked. Bill remained silent, but folded his arms as if expecting something.

"I think I just figured out the missing link." Rowena said once they'd all gathered around. "I know who HGW is."

"Who?" Nim blinked.

"Hermione Granger-Weasley."

The others gasped, but Nim looked confused.

"Wait I thought Hermione's last name was Granger."

"Well, officially it is. It's how she became famous in the Ministry…however her married last name is actually Granger-Weasley."

"Wait a minute, where'd you get HGW from?" Bill asked.

"From the note that she gave Nim." Rowena said.

"What note?" Bill blinked.

Nim took a breath and explained what had happened several hours prior.

"So what you're saying is, Hermione figured out she was about to die, wrote a last minute message, and sent it…to a complete stranger?" Bill shook his head. "That seems oddly convenient."

"If you'd like to provide an alternative explanation, let me know." Rowena said.

"But what would the former Minister of Magic gain from reaching out to Nim?" Gisele asked.

"Wait, I thought she was like Head of some…magical creature freedom department or something." Nim shook his head. Sometimes this was more than he could handle.

"Well yeah, she stepped down as Minister awhile back. I guess she wanted to focus her energies on the other department. More her calling I hear." Gisele replied.

"In any case," Rowena continued. "She felt it was important enough to mention this 'Phoenix Tattoo.' Does anyone have any theories about this?"

No one spoke up.

"Really?" Rowena sighed. "None of you?"

"Well if you're so smart," Gisele rolled her eyes. "Why don't you just tell us? It's getting late and I'd rather not be out here at night."

Rowena huffed. "The only reference off the top of my head that I can make to a Phoenix…would be Fawkes."

"You mean, the phoenix that supposedly belonged to Headmaster Dumbledore?" Cyril asked.

"The very one." She smiled.

"Okay, why not any random phoenix though?" Bill asked.

"There aren't many in the world, in fact, I'd say they're on the verge of extinction." Rowena said.

"But why Fawkes?" Gisele asked. "Like Bill said, it could be any phoenix."

"Fine fine, I was just saying there is a connection between the phoenix and this school. Therefore, there's a possible link between this group and Nim." Rowena said.

"I mean," Bill said. "It's not like Nim, the big Chaser hero, could just spontaneously arise from his own ashes or anything."

"Wait a minute." Gisele's eyes lit up.

"Didn't expect you to catch on so soon." Rowena smiled.

"You don't mean…"

"I do."

Nim blinked.

"Care to fill us in?" Bill asked. He scowled a bit. "Only so much time I can spend not studying."

"Let's think." Rowena said. "What would rising from the ashes…mean to anyone here?"

It was as if the lightbulb hit them all at once.

"My brother…" Nim's eyes widened.

"You called?"

The entire group spun around.

Standing on the edge of the forbidden forest stood the ghostly shape of Nim's brother. He had on his cold, uncaring grin as he held something in his arms.

"Wait…when did?!" Gisele shouted.

Clasped in his hands, was an unconscious Cyril being drug by his robes.

"Let him go!" Nim shouted. He reached for his wand.

"Time to up the game. Catch me if you can." Rathley cackled as he moved backwards with ungodly speed, disappearing within seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! The final roller coaster. Hang on for the ride folks, it might get a bit bumpy! Waited almost 6 months for this moment! So exciting. Thank you to all of my readers who have hung with me. I hope you are ready for this! I hope not to disappoint :) Love you all!


	23. Coven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang chases after Rathley to save Cyril.

It was unclear who bolted first, but soon all four of the first year Hogwarts students chose the unthinkable: enter the forbidden forest against school policy.

Rathley's cackles echoed against the pine trees that surrounded. At first, they weren't too far apart in frequency, but soon, they grew softer until they disappeared altogether.

"What now?" Gisele panted, leaning against a giant beech tree in a small clearing.

No one responded.

After a couple minutes, Bill spoke up.

"We need to split up."

"What?" The others said, almost in unison.

"Well," Bill said. "This just got complex. A student has been kidnapped and taken into the forest. We need to get professors involved. We are just first year students. If Nim's brother is a powerful enough wizard to knock someone out without making a noise…we may be in over our heads."

"Then we should all go back." Rowena said.

"If we all go back, this trail will run cold. My plan is continue to follow as best we can, shooting up red sparks as we go. However, if no one knows what the sparks are for, it might be misinterpreted. That's why we need to get Professors involved stat."

All three looked like they wanted to say something, but for several seconds no one spoke.

"Okay, I'll go back." Gisele said. "The three of you should keep going."

"The fact we are even here in this forest, on our own, is dangerous enough. What if you get lost?" Bill asked.

"I think I can handle a few nasties." Gisele said.

"Small creatures, sure. Centaurs and Werewolves though?" Bill asked.

"Okay what do you propose then?" Rowena asked.

"I think Nim and I should keep going. You two go back." Bill said.

Rowena and Nim exchanged a quick glance.

"But, I've studied harder than Nim. I think I'm more use to you in a fight." Rowena said.

"Nim and I have trained together all year though, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Plus," Bill held up a finger as Rowena looked about to protest. "If we do run into Rathley. It's Nim's brother. He will have more insight and more intel about how to deal with a hostage situation."

Rowena sputtered a moment and then folded her arms.

"Fine. We're wasting time. Get going."

Bill and Nim looked at each other. It was their first time alone together in almost a month. After the awkward conversation between Rowena and Nim, he'd found ways to avoid this.

Not this time.

Cyril couldn't wait.

"Stay safe." Nim waved at the girls.

Before they parted, Rowena brushed past time and quickly whispered, "Send up Green Sparks if he tries anything. I will personally come for you."

The two girls left promptly after.

"Shall we?" Bill asked.

"Where do we start?"

The two boys spent time searching the area carefully. After some time, the trail picked up. They found Cyril's broken glasses next to an oak tree.

They followed the trail of shattered glass until it ran cold again.

"Bollocks, Where did they go?" Bill asked.

Nim was equally stumped.

As they were about to give up, a cackle and then a rustle came just to the left.

"That way!" Nim shouted, bolting in the direction the rustling was coming from. He heard Bill running close behind.

The two boys followed, rustling and cackling being their main forms of guidance.

After awhile Nim stopped, he was drenched in sweat and huffing.

"I wonder…" Bill said, leaning against a nearby pine tree, catching his breath as well. "How far we are into the forest."

"No idea." Nim replied. He held his wand up and sent a red spark, as requested.

"What if this is all a trap?" Bill asked. He held his wand up and looked around.

"No clue." Nim began to realize just how alone he was with Bill in this moment. He gripped his wand.

"Come on, I think I see something!" Bill motioned.

The pair of them ran down a path of sorts to what looked like cloth.

"What do you think?" Bill held it up.

It certainly looked like a cloth from a school robe, torn off.

"It might be his…" Nim said.

"Might be?" Bill asked. "How many students do you think go this far into the forest?" He took off farther in the direction they'd found the cloth.

Nim gulped. The stars were now coming out in the patches of sky above. Sun had long set, and in the dim moonlight, the forest seemed to grow closer. He hoped any minute the others would come rushing to help them.

But they didn't.

Some time later, the cackling and rustling died completely. There were no more trails.

Bill and Nim were completely alone.

If not for the open clearing, it might have been claustrophobic.

"Darn it." Bill spit. "Where did that ass take him?"

"Maybe we should wait here…" Nim said. He held up his wand.

"Wait wait." Bill held out his hand. "If you do that here, who knows who will come. We should head that way and do it where we'd be less likely to be spotted." He pointed to an even darker, more densely covered area.

"Are you serious?" Nim felt a chill go down his spine. "We have no idea what we are doing, why get ourselves more turned around?"

"Nim, just trust me. I know we," he shifted uncomfortably. "I know we haven't been exactly chummy lately, but I know about this forest better than you."

"So taking me to a place, where no one can see us and firing a signal in a way that is cryptic…would help us?" Nim took a step back.

"What are you implying?" Bill folded his arms.

This was it.

No more hiding behind Quidditch.

No more pretending like everything was okay.

It was time.

"How did you know Gisele had a cat?" Nim raised his wand.

"What?" Bill blinked.

"I said, how did you know Gisele had a cat?" Nim repeated.

"Have you gone mad?!" Bill shouted. His face contorted into a scowl. "Our friend is somewhere out there, fighting for his life, and you are asking me how I bloody well knew Gisele had a cat?"

"I mean, she never told you did she?" Nim's eyes narrowed.

"What does that have to do, with anything?" Bill asked.

"You said you followed her cat to the basement…that night Rathley attacked me. That's how you found me. Yeah?" Nim asked.

"Y-yeah what of it?" Bill replied, with a slight stutter.

"How did you know it was Gisele's?"

"Are we bloody doing this now?"

"You could be leading me into a trap. Tell me or I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" Bill took a step forward. "I know every trick you know. I've taught you. Would you really attack me?" He unfolded his arms.

"Just tell me the truth." Nim shot a red spark at Bill's feet.

"Bloody hell!" Bill leapt back. "Gisele told me-"

"Wrong!" Nim shouted. "I already know Gisele didn't tell you."

"I've seen the cat with her-"

"There are dozens of cats at Hogwarts." Nim said. "My cat has certainly warmed up to other students."

"I-" Bill tried to talk but couldn't. His lips trembled and he took a breath. "Alright fine. I had no idea it was her cat. The reason I went down to the basement. It was because I was following you alright?"

"Why?" Nim asked.

"Because-"

Before he could finish. There was a howl and snarl nearby. Both boys jumped.

"Who's there?" Bill asked. "Show yourself."

A pair of beady yellow eyes pierced the darkness.

"…Nim…run." Bill held his arm back.

"But-"

"Don't but me!" Bill hissed. "Just run!"

Nim didn't wait for a third command. A hairy, humanoid monster took a step from the woods, snarling. Drool and foam forming on it's lips.

In utter fear, Nim bolted. However, Bill didn't follow him.

"Bill!" He shouted.

"Just get out of here I'll handle this." Bill didn't turn to Nim.

Nim swore, feeling stupid. He didn't know what to do, so he continued to run.

The rush of wind billowed and whipped his hair. The cold tinge of the moonlight sent ice down his spine. A tree branch whipped past his arm as he glided past. He wasn't sure why he was running deeper into the forest, but, while strong pine filled his nostrils, all he knew was he had to keep moving.

The entire forest melted and molded together, creating a misty haze in Nim's line of vision. He tried to squint while his feet moved, but nothing came into focus. He was a slave to the direction his feet took him.

After pushing past two more hazy branches, Nim was in a clearing. The stars littered the sky, almost like a painting. A large cauldron above a fire pit was bubbling. Nim wanted to check it out, but his feet told him otherwise. He was still stuck on whatever trajectory his invisible Shepard wanted him to follow.

On the other side of the bubbling cauldron, Nim watched as a shadowy figure danced against a tree. Okay, maybe it wasn't so much dancing as vibrating. It was hard to tell. A part of him needed to know what this was. He walked up, stretching out his fingers towards the figure.

He gasped as Cyril's face appeared.

This all seemed strangely familiar.

Then something large and blunt struck the back of his head. For a few seconds, bright bulbs of light flashed with a sickening split of his skull, and then the forest went dark.

\-------------

Nim smelled smoke.

It filled his lungs and made them scream.

He coughed, feeling the sting of the chilly night air hitting the soft spot on the back of the head where he'd been hit.

"Awake are we?"

Nim blinked, his blurry vision slowly reconnecting figures. There were three in total in front of him. All of them wore metal masks and long dark cloaks.

One was extremely familiar.

It made his blood run cold.

"Recognized me have you?" The blonde witch who had attacked him in Hogwarts asked. She stepped forward. "That's good."

As he peered at her, her figure catching in the glow of the nearby bubbling cauldron, he saw on her neck, a tattoo of a phoenix.

"Tattoo…" Nim managed. It hurt to talk.

"Oh yes, so you've noticed?" The witch cackled. "The mark of the Coven of the Phoenix."

The other two witches…and a more masculine voice laughed in conjunction.

"Well Nimbus Albacore. For almost two years you've managed to avoid our grasp. But here you are now…walking straight into our nest." She stepped back and faced the other two witches.

"Sisters, it is time. Have we the necessary ingredients to fulfill our purpose?"

"Yes Mi Amore." One of the witches said.

"Yes." The other one said.

"In the name of our great Isabella, let us begin."

The three witches walked to the cauldron and began to pace around it, chanting words Nim couldn't make out.

"N-nim?"

Nim tilted his head to the right and felt a twinge of pain. He winced but saw the figure of his friend, tied up in similar fashion as himself against a tree.

"Cyril, thank god."

"What's going on?" Cyril asked. One of his eyes was black and bruised. "I can't…see anything. I broke my glasses…"

"I don't know. It looks like a ritual of some sort." Nim darted his eyes to the three witches who were now dancing around the cauldron singing a song of sorts. The name Isabella came up a couple times. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure." Cyril said. "I was talking to you all one moment, and the next I'm being dragged through the forest…I tried to struggle, but that's when i hit my head against a tree and my glasses broke…next thing I know I'm here. A man was tying me up…no it wasn't a man."

"You mean my brother?"

"He's-"

Cyril was about to explain, but then the chanting grew loud into shouting.

Nim turned to see the witches stopped, backs to the cauldron in three different directions. The blonde on spoke first.

"On this night, we offer the solution our great leader seeks." She stepped forward.

"The means to an end when the world is bleak." The second one followed.

"To stand up to the bold and protect the meek." The third one said.

"The blood of the chosen will set us all free." All three chanted.

"Bring us the boy." The blonde witch said.

Nim watched as a figure, who had been hiding in the shadows, slowly approached.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand.

Rathley's cold grin shone brightly in the dim lighting. His wispy black hair and haggard appearance gave him a mindless zombie look about him.

Every step he took towards Nim made his heart race. He tried to struggle, but the bindings on his wrists were too tight. He felt the pounding in his head intensify, but every muscle in his body told him that he had to run.

But it was no use.

His brother approached and with two swift motions the bindings were released. Nim didn't have time to react, as his brother, with inhuman speed whipped around. With force, Nim was drug forward, arms behind him held by his brother's firm…and almost steel like grip.

"Stop." He said.

"I can't." His brother replied. "Just doing what I'm told." He laughed.

"You don't have to do this…" Nim struggled.

"Unfortunately for you, yes I do."

Nim was forced by his brother over the boiling hot cauldron. There was a small platform of sorts he was pushed on. He helped as Rathley pushed his head over the boiling liquid inside.

"Please…" Nim begged, tears welling up in his eyes. The concoction burned a bit and smelled like old socks thrown in kitty litter.

"You've done well." Though Nim couldn't see her with his head being forced down, he knew it was the blonde witch. "Sisters, the ingredients."

Nim heard splashes as objects were tossed in.

"Now, the most important one of all. Fresh blood from the chosen."

Nim watched in horror as a silver knife, glinting against the moonlight hovered in front of him, slowly drifting down to his neck.

"Better not waste any!" One of the other witches cackled.

"Brother…help…" Nim gasped. He felt the cold silver press against him. Then something strange. He felt something wet splash against the back of his neck. A couple drops. They didn't feel cold like rain, but warm and soft.

Tears?

Then the knife left his throat. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it reel back.

"For Isabella." The three witches chanted.

Nim squeezed his eyes shut.

Then he was lifted up, the air beneath his neck swooshing as the knife barely missed.

His whole body reeled back and was thrown from the platform. He hit the ground with a thud and rolled over.

He saw jets of light blasting all around him. The witches had scattered, trying to find cover as the assault continued.

"Mess with my friends, not on my watch!"

Nim heard Bill, but couldn't see him. He thanked the stars above, but noticed now that Rathley was running towards him. He rolled to his feet and sprinted the opposite way.

By chance, he spotted a small table near where they'd kept Cyril, with their wands on it. He knew he didn't have much time and dove for them, grabbing his.

Then the full brunt of Rathley's force hit him like the Hogwarts Express.

For a moment, Nim saw stars and hit the ground. He used the nearby tree to prop himself up. He shook his head and raised his wand.

Rathley's iron grip closed on his neck at that moment.

"Stop." Nim struggled as he felt his feet rise again. It was just like in the basement of Hogwarts. This time though, he refused to let his wand drop. He pointed it with all of his strength at Rathley.

"Use fire."

Nim blinked. "What?"

Rathley's stone cold gaze pierced through him. "Kill me with fire."

Nim gasped in between, trying to steady his breaths. "Rathley, why are you-"

"I don't want to kill you. I can't stop it." Rathley's gaze broke for just a moment. It was as if a carbon copy of himself was momentarily above the figure in front of him, but it flickered and was quickly back to the killer. "They…control me. I will never be free. Nim please, kill me, it's the only way."

Nim watched, but the figure's mouth didn't move once. Something was off.

"H-how?" Nim felt his gasps increase. He had to act fast.

"Fire."

Nim was about to protest, but then the answer came to him. "Incendio."

Sparks flew out of his wand, igniting Rathley's hair and crawling up. It was shockingly effective and Nim felt his body crumple to the ground.

He looked up, grasping his neck with his free hand and watched as Rathley reeled back. His hands frantically tried to put out the flame which had now progressed all over his body.

Then there was a scream that rivaled banshees and a ghostly form exited the body, which went limp and clashed down.

"Nim. I'm so sorry." Though it was transparent and devoid of color, Nim could make out Rathley's shape. "Please forgive me."

"Rathley? Is that you?" Nim asked. He stood up taking a step to the figure. "H-how?"

"Yes, well kind of. It's hard to explain." The figure flickered. "I have to go now. Thank you for setting me free. I love y-"

Then the light dissolved, floating away into the sky into hundreds of small balls of light. And then it was dark again, only dimly lit by the fire under the cauldron and the moonlight above.

Nim couldn't comprehend what had just transpired. As if in a daze, he walked over to the body. His eyes went wide. It wasn't flesh. It wasn't alive. It wasn't even human.

He stared at the remains of a doll, formed from clay and wood, with a masked face and sizzling, wispy hair.

This body wasn't Rathley's.

Nim sank to his knees, a tear forming in his eye. He had no idea what was going on.

Then he gasped.

A sharp object pierced his side

A witch cackled.

Nim felt his heartbeat louder and it rang in his ears.

The world went silent for a moment.

He felt the knife exit, hot blood pouring from the gash.

His body slumped as if in slow motion.

Helpless, he watched his wand fall inches from his fingers.

The world began to close up.

Then a scream as a jet of light dashed over head.

His eyes grew heavy.

His body numbed.

A figure knelt over him.

Then darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I won't say a lot. Reveals galore next chapter. Thank you for going on this wild ride with me! After 6 months of writing by the seat of my pants, getting a plan once I was into it, and then resuming once life got de-crazified, I'm about to see my vision finished! So much love and support from my readers. My plan is to have this finished by this weekend. Stay tuned!


	24. The Curse of Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gripping conclusion and surprising revelation to Book 1 of the Nimbus Albacore series.

Weightless, Nim floated in space. Time didn't matter here. Lights of all colors flashed around. He wanted to move, but his arms refused. His legs could twitch, not that they did much else. He looked right, but still more flashing lights. They made his eyes tire. A warm, fuzzy feeling began to rise in his feet, making it's way to his legs, and then continued to spread upward. He swore he caught a whiff of cinnamon at some point, but it faded. It reminded him of times when his mother would cook him Chelsea Rolls. The mixture of cinnamon and raisins always put his mind at ease.

He wondered when the last time he'd had a Chelsea Roll.

The warm feeling spread up to his chest. He felt a tingling sensation. Not hurtful, but almost calming, like he hadn't been this relaxed in awhile. A smile crept across his lips. There were no more people dying here, there was no Rathley or witches trying to kill him.

Pure bliss.

He started to lean back. His eyes were so tired. He could feel the warmth spreading into his shoulders and neck. The lights flashing began to blend together and soon melded into white. It bathed him as he floated towards it. He leaned back, accepting and inviting it.

Then the light went dark.

He opened his eyes for a moment.

The warmth leaving like reverse osmosis.

Gravity kicked in and Nim fell backwards.

A scream escaped his lips.

"Nim it's just us!"

Nim felt his entire body convulse. He flopped back on the bed fully awake now.

"What's going on?" He asked. It didn't take long for him to realize though. He was becoming quite familiar with this place.

The hospital wing.

"We thought we lost you there for a little while." The voice who had spoken earlier belonged to Headmaster Potter. His hair disheveled, he appeared to have just run in from attending several stressful business meetings.

"What…what happened?" Nim sat up. He winced as pain spiked through him from where he'd been stabbed.

"We were hoping you could fill in some of the missing details."

Nim hadn't noticed, but Professor Coremund, Professor Rosma, Professor Longbottom, and Professor Cera had all gathered.

"Is something wrong?" Nim fidgeted with the blanket that covered him.

"We aren't sure yet." Professor Rosma said. She leaned against the nearby wall, her wispy hair dangling in front of her face. "That's why we want to hear from you."

"Me?" Nim asked. He was taken aback. "Cyril and Bill were there too."

"We are aware." Headmaster Potter sat on his bed and smiled. "A lot has happened since you went into your coma. If we know your side of the story, I think we will have a full picture. Would you care to retell? I don't mean to, be a bother after having just woken up, but time…time isn't on our side at the moment."

Nim didn't understand.

"What do you mean?"

"It means we need to get our story straight before the Daily Prophet and subsequently the Ministry of Magic asks for our statement." Professor Cera said. She rolled her eyes. "Your little stunt in the forest started a ripple effect."

"Stunt?!" Nim balled his fists. "Cyril was kidnapped. It's not like we wanted to go there."

"Easy Nimbus." Headmaster Potter raised one hand at him and the other at Professor Cera who huffed and just turned away. "Professor Cera may not always have the best tact," He shot her a glance. "But she isn't wrong. We do need the full picture of what occurred. Please enlighten us."

Nim looked at Professor Longbottom and Professor Coremund. Neither man spoke, but both looked at him attentively.

He took a breath and explained everything that had happened. From the time in the joke shop, to the attack in the basement, to the valentine, and finally, to the events that had transpired the night of Cyril's kidnapping.

As he finished, Professor Rosma exchanged worried looks with Professor Longbottom.

"It's more or less what we thought then." Headmaster Potter said. He gave a small nod. "Now I think it's time for us to fill you in on our side. At least, the parts that are relevant to you. It won't be long before a statement is made public."

"What statement?" Nim asked.

"About your blood Nimbus." Headmaster Potter said. His shoulders slumped and he sighed. "This isn't easy, but based on the accounts from your friends and what we discovered when we found you, unconscious in the woods, we believe you are being hunted for a grim purpose."

"A grim purpose?" Nim asked.

"Indeed." Potter reaffirmed. He pushed back his glasses. "This may be, a difficult pill to swallow, but bear with me. After Miss Windsforth and Miss Wynne told us about Mr. North's kidnapping, we sprang into action. By the time we arrived, however, there wasn't much left. There was, one witch standing over you with a bloody knife, but we managed to prevent her from doing any more damage. In addition, we were able to apprehend the knife, but she escaped before we could detain her. The knife was poisoned, which explains why you reacted the way you did to it. The stab alone wouldn't have sent you into a near death coma.

Once we arrived, we freed Mr. North. Both he and Mr. Kensington, who fought valiantly from what I hear, gave their accounts. Three witches and your brother performed a ceremony of sorts, in the attempts to take your blood for…some purpose. Is that correct?"

Nim nodded.

"Am I also correct in assuming, the dummy we found, was your brother?"

"I don't…know what that was." Nim said. "It all happened so fast…"

"I understand. We were having difficulty with it too." Potter said. "In reality, we don't know what it was you saw, or how to explain your brother. That is part of the mystery still left to uncover. As for this, Coven of the Phoenix, we believe we've reached a conclusion."

"'We'?" Professor Cera said. "So far I haven't reached anything. How about you Ros?"

"N-no." Professor Rosma shook her head.

"Care to enlighten us?" Cera's eyes narrowed.

"Why Emerald-"

"I'd rather you not call me that." Professor Cera glowered.

"Fine fine, Ms. Cera." Potter said. He rolled his eyes to Nim who stifled a chuckle. "To prove my point, I'll need Professors Rosma and Longbottom to come over.

The two professors exchanged glances, but did as told.

"On either side of Nim please." Potter ushered them. Once satisfied he continued. "Mr. Albacore. If you would be so kind as to shake Professor Rosma's hand."

Nim wrinkled his nose, wondering where this was headed. "Alright." He said and did as told. Professor Rosma's hand was wrinkled and a little calloused as if she'd been working hard for her whole life.

"Now, if you could, shake Professor Longbottom's hand." Potter directed.

"Okay?" Nim didn't know what was the point. He turned to the Professor and reached out his hand.

No sooner had the pair touched, that familiar shocking sensation built up.

"Ouch," they both said in unison.

Professor Rosma, Coremund, and Cera all looked in astonishment.

"Why did that happen?" Professor Coremund asked, adjusting his top hat.

"Why, I cannot say exactly, it's the question I will be proposing to the Ministry to investigate further." Potter stood up. "I just have, one question for you, Professor Rosma. I think that'll make things very clear."

"Yes Headmaster?"

"Are both of your parents wizards?" Potter turned around to face the entire group, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, why?"

"Were both of their parents wizards?"

"Well," Rosma put a finger to her chin. "Actually no, my Grandfather on my mum's side wasn't."

Professor Cera, Coremund, and Longbottom all gasped in unison.

Nim did not.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Nim asked.

"You see, Nimbus. Unlike Professor Rosma, Professor Longbottom doesn't have any muggle ancestors. This is what's known as pureblood in the wizarding community. Could you tell me any others whom you have shocked?"

"Well, there was Russ MacMillan, Rolf from Slytherin, and…Bill." Suddenly his eyes widened. He knew what conclusion the professor had reached.

_"See Fawley is one of the oldest pureblood lines in the Wizarding community. That makes Bill heir to a famous bloodline."_

Rowena's words came back to him in that moment and he knew.

"So then," He took a breath. "Russ and Rolf…they…"

"They are of pureblood lineage yes. Russ of the MacMillan bloodline and Rolf of the Flint bloodline. I can't figure out what the Coven wants with you, exactly. But if they have reached the same conclusion as I have. Something about you affects pureblooded wizards in a way we've never seen before."

"But if it's just shocking," Professor Coremund said. "What is the danger? I mean why have gone through all of this trouble?"

"That's a question I had as well." Potter said. "Hearing Mr. Albacore's story though, I think I have an idea."

"The blood." Cera's eyes lit up.

"Precisely." Potter replied.

"What about my blood?" Nim asked. He was thoroughly confused.

"Neville, would you mind being my guinea pig again?" Potter asked.

"Harry, what are you intending?" Professor Longbottom asked.

"An experiment." He replied. _"Accio syringe."_

The others watched as the syringe floated to his hand. He then motioned for Professor Longbottom to join him. The Herbology Professor hesitated, but did as told. The Headmaster took the syringe and drew a bit of blood, much to the chagrin of the Professor, who looked like he was going to faint.

 _"Accio syringe."_ Potter called as a second syringe flew over. "This might sting a little." He walked over to Nim and repeated the process. Nim winced at the pinching and prodding sensation of having blood drawn. "Now," he picked up an empty water glass. "Here we have Neville's sample." He pushed the syringe, emptying the contents into the glass. "And now, when I add Mr. Albacore's sample…"

The entire room went silent. The only thing that could be heard was the shuffle as the Headmaster positioned the water glass under the second syringe. Everyone held their breath as he slowly pushed the syringe.

A single drop of Nim's blood formed.

His heart raced.

Time slowed for just a moment.

Then it fell.

As it hit the glass full of Professor Longbottom's blood, there was a loud hissing noise. Everyone covered their ears. Nim watched, his jaw dropping as he saw foam and bubbles form. Steam rose everywhere. The entire concoction spurted. Then in a matter of moments, all that was left was foam and steam. All of the blood had vanished.

"Merlin's beard…" Professor Longbottom said. No one else could comment. There were no words for what they had just seen.

"Where'd it go?" Professor Cera asked after a couple minutes.

"No idea." Headmaster Potter replied. "I think though, the experiment can conclusively say that Nimbus' blood mixed with pureblood's blood…is deadly to both."

Nim couldn't breath.

His chest tightened.

He clutched his shirt.

He could feel his pulse in his eyes.

He wanted to cry.

He wanted to scream.

Anything.

Then a hand clasped on his shoulder. He looked up to see Professor Coremund smiling. His lips trembled and he buried his face in his hands as the tears came.

"Why didn't this same reaction happen when he shook Neville's hand?" Professor Rosma asked.

"I believe, to have this reaction, it has to be directly blood to blood." Headmaster Potter said. "Otherwise, we just get a partial reaction. I imagine…it would be worse the longer the contact was made…but I'd rather not test it. Not when we know so little. I think this is a matter best left to the ministry."

Nim the lab rat.

Rathley would have gotten a kick out of that.

"What's going to happen to me?" He slowly raised his head, wiping a tear away.

"Nothing on my watch." Potter stood up. "I imagine, the only thing the ministry will ask for is samples of blood periodically for testing purposes."

"Are they going to take me away?" Nim sobbed. "I love it here. I don't want to go. Please don't let them."

"No, never." Professor Coremund hugged him. The warmth felt nice. Nim sobbed into him.

"I think, we have the story we need. We should be off. Need our student to get rest before finals week begins." Headmaster Potter said.

"Wait, what day is it?" Nim asked, breaking his embrace.

"It's Sunday evening before Finals week." Coremund responded.

"The game…" Nim said.

"Is already over." Coremund looked to the other Professors who began to leave.

"What?" Nim didn't notice as they left. "What happened? How long have I been out?"

"Almost two weeks," Coremund sighed. "Your team performed admirably, but…"

"Oh." Nim didn't know what else to say. He felt lost. He was a let down.

"In any case, it's getting late. I expect things to change for you starting tomorrow. The Daily Prophet and probably the Black Cat will be all over this." He sighed. "You can always come to me if you need me alright?"

Nim nodded. In that moment he managed a smile, the first genuine one since waking up. For some reason, he knew it would all be okay.

Well maybe not all of it.

As predicted, Nimbus' face graced the cover of almost every newspaper in the Wizarding world. He was the talk of all Hogwarts. No matter where he went, people pointed and stared. He tried to shrink out of sight, but no matter what, even the paintings looked at him. Students would jeer, they'd laugh, they'd avoid him entirely, and would go out of their way to make him feel miserable.

He was right back in Hogwarts week one, feeling like an outsider and an outcast.

Finals week couldn't end soon enough. He did well enough to pass, he felt, though it remained to be seen. He just wanted to be alone. Even being back with his Grandfather would be better. Anywhere but here.

His friends stuck with him though, the silver lining in all of this. Cyril profusely thanked him for saving his life. Rowena and Gisele both constantly told him to ignore the other students and that he was special and should feel as such.

Only Bill refused to talk to him.

Nim didn't blame him.

Then, on Thursday evening, the silence was broken.

"Nim."

Bill stopped as they passed in the hall. Bill hadn't been by to see him since the incident. Awkwardness blanketed Nim as they talked.

"Bill, I," Nim said. "I'm sorry about, the forest and…"

"I get it. I lied to you." Bill said. For the first time in months, Bill wasn't mad nor was he a rude prat.

"Why did you?" Nim asked.

"I can't say." Bill folded his arms. "It doesn't matter anyways. I won't do it again."

"Alright," Nim said. "Thank you, for saving me…twice. How did you survive the werewolf?"

"I caught a lucky break." Bill said. "I thought for a moment, I was a goner. Then…a centaur of all things scared it off. Don't know why it chose to help me…I didn't stick around to ask. Then I heard laughing from the witches, and…I'm guessing you know the rest. Don't mention it though, it wasn't anything."

"It was something." Nim said. "I called you a liar, suspected you of trying to kill me. I was wrong. I'm sorry."

"Don't." Bill said. "It's okay. But we can't be friends anymore."

"What?" Nim blinked.

"I'm…a pureblooded wizard." Bill said.

"I know that, but-"

"Then you know," he interrupted. "That you and I…can't be friends. I know that you are like, an anti-wizard or something. If we are friends, you might bleed on me."

"No I'd be careful-" Nim's lip trembled. "Please Bill…I can't lose you. I've lost so much already." He staggered back against the wall, unable to stand as his legs shook. His whole body trembled.

"I can't take that chance. I'm sorry I just…" Bill's eyes watered. It was the first time Nim had ever seen him let his emotion show. "I just can't okay?! I don't want to die!" He shouted and then sprinted away.

Nim watched a moment, then looked at his hands. In that moment, he hated himself. More than he'd ever hated himself before. He didn't want this. He slumped, unable to control the emotions as he burst out in tears, falling to the floor and holding his knees in close. Salty tears stung his face and poured into his mouth. He didn't care. He didn't care who saw. Who judged. He cried for all those who had died, for those who were afraid of him, for everything he couldn't express in words. His cotton robes were getting soaked as he cried into them.

And in that moment he knew, sitting with tear soaked robes, salty stings, and burning pain.

He was alone.

The train was scheduled to leave the next day. Nim forced himself to pack. He felt worthless, as if everything was spiraling out of control. Gisele, Cyril, and Rowena had hugged him and told him it would be alright, but it was hard to believe them.

As he stood there, packing, he couldn't help but let his thoughts drift to all of the rumors, the dirty looks, and the snarky, hateful comments. His hands trembled, but somehow he managed to fit everything into his trunk. He saved his bed for last, not even bothering to fold his sheets as he stuffed them in. Just about done, he walked to the nearby nightstand to check for any last minute packing.

He froze.

Sitting on top of the stand, was the alarm clock. The same alarm clock that Rathley had gifted him. The same alarm clock which used to wake him up when he was younger. The alarm clock the Coven had sent to him to pour fear into him. The alarm clock that made him feel powerless.

In that moment he couldn't see any other color than red.

He set his trunk down, picking up a loose floor board in it's place.

He balled his fists and walked up to it.

It sat there, mocking him.

Taunting him.

Instilling fear-

Then he brought the board down.

It crushed the clock as if it were made of ice.

Control returned to him.

He brought the board down again.

And again.

And again.

He kept thrusting it down.

A scream escaped his lips.

Anger.

Hatred.

More Screaming.

More Smashing.

Crying.

Sobbing.

A mix of blue and red.

The clock was in shambles all around.

He'd done it.

He'd destroyed his fear.

More.

He brought up the floorboard again to strike, but stopped. There was only one piece still intact. The 7 segment display.

Somehow in his violent tirade, that one part had stayed intact.

One part of his gift from Rathley.

The last part.

His last connection to his brother.

The floorboard toppled from his hand as he reached for it. The tears came again, and this time, as he slumped to the ground, they didn't stop.

In that moment, Miranda purred and rubbed against his legs. She settled next to him and leaned into him.

He held the 7 segment display close to him, to his heart.

And he wept, holding the last pieces of his family as close to him as he could manage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Cried the whole time like a baby. There is still an epilogue coming, but as far as the main story. I've done it. 6 months of time and effort and I actually finished something I started. Thank you so much for having be a part of the ride, for taking your time to read something I wrote. I can't thank my friends and family enough for this. My readers have meant the world to me. I do have something I'm finally ready to share as I wasn't 100% sure myself. I will be writing the rest of these books. I've had a flood of inspiration hit me lately and I think it's enough to continue and I think, the conclusion I am building to will be worth your time. I'm not sure exactly when I'll be posting the next book, but feel free to PM me if you'd like me to notify you when I do :) I do have NaNoWriMo coming up soon, but until then I think I'll be spending my time prepping for Book 2! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.


	25. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look inside the Coven.

The clock struck midnight. The old grandfather's chime echoed throughout the nearly empty house, each ring sounding like that of a gong.

The lone occupant of the house sat a the nook near a window. Rain pattered. She clasped the warm cup of tea like a vial of Veritaserum. Though it couldn't bring her luck, she desperately wished for some form of reprieve.

But it wasn't going to come.

She took a sip of the cup, feeling the strong tones of bitter earl gray. Though there was warmth, it felt empty and quickly faded. She set the cup down, wrapping her mother's shawl around her shoulders.

She'd been like this since the announcement had come from the Daily Prophet. For months after the announcement, she'd stayed hidden here. A safe house from those who did not know the way in. It had been a perfect base.

And it now served as her prison.

A clap of thunder startled her a bit, scaring yet another tear from her eye. She wiped it away, brushing her auburn hair aside, the image of a Phoenix Tattoo showed on her upper part of her neck, hiding once again when her hair draped back.

"Still moping Rose?"

The woman closed her eyes. Keeping herself composed was the only way out of this. She took a breath, used a napkin to wipe her lips and then her eyes as to conceal her tears.

"Celia." She turned to the blonde witch. She stood near the entrance to the kitchen, her black robes billowing behind her. "I didn't notice you arrive."

"Yes, well," Celia strode past the fireplace, approaching her. "The attempt failed. We were unable to extract the boy's blood."

"What did Isabella say?" Rose asked.

"She hasn't yet. Saura and Lise went to her to report, I haven't heard from them yet." Celia picked up a pouch which was on a nearby shelf.

"Not surprising, she's bound to be curt. So what now?" Rose asked.

"Without his blood, our plan contains holes." She opened the pouch and shook it a bit. "We've known that for a few years. In order to accomplish our goal-"

"Yes, yes I know all of that." Rose said. "I mean he's going to essentially be protected again until his next year at Hogwarts. Our attempt at my uncle's joke shop proved that."

"I know." Celia said, shutting the pouch and attaching it to a loop on her side. "At the moment I think we will just stay put until Isabella gives us further instructions. Why are you so curious?" She turned her masked face towards Rose. "This doesn't have anything to do with your mother again does it?"

"No, you clearly explained why she had to be eliminated." Rose said. "It was just temporary though since now our name has gone public and we failed." In that instant, Rose wished she could take it back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the other witches.

"So much help you were when all this was going on." Celia said. She hissed and approached Rose, going up to her face. Through the mask, Rose saw her beady red eyes even in the near darkness of the room. "Are you going to help us Rose or am I going to have to do with you like I did to your mum?"

"Yes, fine. Just let me know when you have an actual plan." Rose snapped back. In moments like these she couldn't let her emotions pour out. Celia would and could take her down, but without probable cause, Isabella would punish her. Their numbers weren't high, but the Coven was slowly growing. While the four original recruits, herself, Celia, Lise, and Saura, focused mostly on their ultimate goal, the leader Isabella worked on gathering more. For what they were planning, an army was needed.

"In the meantime," Celia backed down. "You should do something useful."

"I would if I knew what was going on." Rose said. She'd never really gotten along with the cold, blonde witch. Her methods were rash and almost always ended in a blunder of sorts. Rose was more cautious, planning things down to the last detail.

"Tsk, fine continue your little moping games. But I expect you to pull through once we hear from Lise and Saura." Celia stomped off.

"Fine, fine." Rose said. In truth, she wanted out. Ever since Celia went rogue and killed her mother and the other Ministry officer, she knew the organization and their goals had changed. What she had signed up for, was now evolving into a monster she wanted nothing to do with. With the others keeping a close eye on her since her mother was killed, she couldn't easily just slip out and run to the Ministry.

Trapped.

She'd bide her time until she could find a way out, but for now. All she could do was sit in her chair, whilst the rain pattered against the window, holding her mother's shawl close to her shoulders, wishing desperately that she could have done something different. A picture of her mother rested on the table. She ran her fingers along it, another tear forming in her eye.

_I'm sorry mother._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And that's it. I have officially concluded book 1 of the Nimbus Albacore series. Woo hoo! Thank you all for reading. As stated in my last chapter, if you would like to be notified when I post Book 2, please message me :) I'd be happy to let you know when I get ready to post. Tentatively I'm thinking somewhere around the middle of September once I've had a little break and had time to compile my ideas, but if you want to know for sure, let me know :) I'm so thrilled with how this went. Love all of my readers! Until Book 2 :D


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